Son of the Moon
by Misadventures
Summary: Axel’s the next Naked Cowboy, Roxas drives a hearse, Kairi has plans, Sora has ADD, and Riku's just retarded. When love threatened the way things were, they didn't know what to do. Safety was everything; who had the guts to love? RiSo AkuRoku
1. Comin' out of my cage

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Kingdom Hearts, or any characters, places, or items appearing in the Kingdom Hearts game series, and I do not receive payment for the use of these materials. I do not own any lyrics found in this fic and I do not receive payment for their use. If lyrics are used in any chapter, I will cite the artist to whom they belong at the end of the chapter.

**Summary: **Axel's the next Naked Cowboy, Roxas drives a hearse, Kairi's got issues, Sora has ADD, and Riku's just retarded. When love threatened the way things were, they didn't know what to do. At that age, safety was everything. Who had the guts to love?

**Pairings:** RikuSora, eventual AxelRoxas, some SaixKairi.

**Genre: **Humor/Romance

**Rating: **T for language.

**Son of the Moon**

_Chapter one: 'I'm comin' out of my cage And I've been doing just fine'_

_~*~_

"_It's funny how you just break down,  
Waitin' on some sign.  
I pull up to the front of your driveway,  
With magic soakin' my spine.  
Can you read my mind?"_

—_The Killers, "Read My Mind"_

_~*~_

It was a cheerily cliché morning—the air was cool and crisp and it was still too early for the sun's rays to damage Roxas' tired, bloodshot eyes. He was sitting in his car in the student parking lot, staring absently into the Styrofoam cup of coffee in his hand. The steam was wafting into his face.

It was too early. It was too _god damn _early.

Of the few cars currently in the school lot, Roxas' was definitely the most unique. And by unique, you know that every other student made fun of him for it—except his friends, minus Axel, who made fun of him anyway. The quasi-functional blond had a fine car—lots of space in back, side and rearview mirrors, a steering wheel, tires, and everything. Hell, he had a mini-fridge, rug, and a couch bolted down in the back. Other than a toilet, sink, and microwave, he could _live _in that car. But that wasn't the problem.

The problem was that Roxas drove a hearse.

Roxas drove an f—ing _deathmobile. _

Wherever he went, people expected there to be a dead body. This put a considerable cramp in his style.

That was the problem. That, and poor mileage.

That, and being utterly useless for driving friends—plural: friends—around.

But Roxas wasn't thinking about any of this—after all, he was currently steeped in the daily teenage morning stupor. He was vaguely aware of a low-flying airplane overhead. As the minutes passed, he slowly gained presence of mind and feeling returned to his body. Roxas could actually see what he was looking at, and then he realized that covering his windshield was a thick, opaque layer of _mud. _

Roxas stared—conscious, this time. What looked like a brush pressed against the window in a sweeping motion over the lower right corner. Someone was still painting more mud onto the glass. There were little gaps in the brown layer through which he could see bits of deep, fiery red.

"AXEL!!" The resounding shout spread across the parking lot, through the neighborhood, and into the sky—and you can bet that low-flying plane heard it, too.

The man he suspected was Axel froze, and then Roxas heard a thud onto the hood of his car, a tumble, and then a meatier thud onto the pavement.

Roxas got out of his car and sidled around to the other side. It was Axel. Even without the telltale hair, Roxas would have guessed it was him, because, as everyone acquainted with the Deathmobile Driver knew, the blond freak had ESPN. Hell, he had ESPN 2.

It was still too early for Roxas to realize that ESPN, 1 and 2, were television channels, not an ability to gain information by transcending the mortal senses.

But that was beside the point. Axel was lying on his side in the fetal position, moaning up a storm. There was a mud-slicked foam brush next to him and a bucket of mud on the hood. Roxas waited patiently; he had his coffee to occupy him. He sipped it with faintly sadistic satisfaction.

By the time Roxas was holding an empty cup, Axel had recovered. The redhead was lying on his back, staring up at his friend like a wide-eyed loon.

"Damn, Roxas, why'd you scare me like that?" Axel whined, feeling his head for lumps.

_**"WHY WERE YOU PAINTING MUD ON MY GOD DAMN WINDSHIELD!?" **_

Axel winced. He said, as though to apologize, "Well, if you hadn't jumped to conclusions so quickly, I would've painted the rest of it to match!"

The redhead grinned and hopped to his feet. He grabbed the brush and bucket.

"What the Hell, Axel?"

"Glee Club is having a car wash after school today to raise money. If the students' cars aren't dirty, they won't bother."

Axel was one of the senior, most active members of the Glee Club.

"So you're taking care of that problem for them, I see."

Roxas' face did not display the same cool rationality and general cheer that Axel's did—the blond's face read something more like _'I am the best friend of an ass-hat who looks like a burning tree.' _

He sighed. "How much does it cost?"

"Five dollars, right here, right after school."

_"Great." _

Axel then turned and made for the car closest to Roxas', which was a blue Honda belonging to the class president, who also happened to be a member of the Glee Club. Roxas caught up to the fool. Axel grinned gleefully at him.

"My partner in crime?"

"It's bound to be funnier when it's someone else's car."

Axel set the bucket down on the hood of the blue Honda and fished around in his pocket. He tossed his car keys to the blond.

"I have more buckets and brushes in the trunk of my car. I'm running low and I wanna make this thing a chocolate frosted cake!"

Roxas obediently went and returned with the extra brush and bucket and began painting the side windows while Axel covered the windshields. They worked together in companionable silence, like two crusaders working to fulfill a sacred oath, then moved on the other four cars in the parking lot before anyone saw them. The redhead and the blond agreed to resume their noble work during their shared free period after lunch.

Hours after they parted, Roxas still wondered why Axel was wearing spurs.

Meanwhile, a certain _female _redhead was in the backstage of the school theater. She was messing with the sound effects and replacing the music tapes with audio recorded from porn...

(XXX)

Mrs. Barillo had two blessings in life: a natural gift for math of all sorts and a talent for teaching. Unfortunately, she chose to become a math teacher. Math teachers will almost never successfully transmit their passion for their subject to students because _most _of their students think math is boring, frustrating, or impossible, and the lucky math-minded few think math is uninteresting and straightforward.

Nice choice, Mrs. Barillo.

Sora was one of the lucky math-minded few. He was _good _at algebra, geometry, calculus, and trigonometry, and he _liked _punching out formulas and processes like a robot. In gym class, Sora's only blessing was swiftness and relative strength, but in math class he was a _well-oiled machine. _

Sora was not a nerd for four reasons. First, Sora did not play Dungeons & Dragons or Magic the Gathering. Second, he was cute. And he was friends with Riku, who was, like, an A+ cool. Sora, other than the intelligence thing, was relatively cool—a B or B-. However, by association, Sora was a B+. And that made him happy, because no one would give a swirly to a B+, nor would they lock him in his locker, tape him to a wall, or steal his book bag and throw it in the dumpster.

But being perpetually accompanied by someone of Riku's stature, coolness, and muscles also helped.

Sora was taking three advanced placement courses that year and was hoping for a nice scholarship from a place like Hikari University. (Author's Interjection: I love how all high school/college/university names in KH fanfics always seem to be something like Destiny, Hikari, or Kingdom.) He had reason to hope for such a scholarship because he was, somehow, apparently, a third Native American. He couldn't see it, his mother couldn't see it, and none of his friends could see it, minus Axel, who said he could see if when he turned his head to the side and squinted.

He was also good at drawing and was toying with the idea of becoming an architect. He hoped it paid well.

Sora glanced at Riku, who sat next to him in most of their classes together. His silver-haired friend was staring vacantly out the window. Riku was better than Sora at a number of things, like sports and earning the most coos from girls when shirtless. He was on the school soccer team and looked good running around a field. He was handsome and knew when to shut up. Riku was also intelligent, except for his massive brain farts, which usually averaged at five times a month.

Riku's greatest shame, probably, was his brain farts, although he rarely showed it. Fortunately, most of his moments of epic fail happened in relative privacy, usually in the presence of Sora, other close friends, or family. Otherwise, the school population's Riku-reverence would have taken a sharp nose-dive.

Riku was lucky in this respect. Sora also considered himself lucky, because he was apparently very chummy with Fate, who benefited Sora with front-row seats to many of Riku's moments of humiliation.

Like when Riku was doing laundry and put his jeans in the refrigerator. Or when Riku forgot which America he was in on the map. Or when last month, out of the blue, Riku forgot Sora's name—the guessing game that ensued lasted for over half an hour. Or when Riku, Riku's family, and Sora were at a Japanese restaurant for Riku's sixteenth birthday. The waitress' native language happened to be Japanese, so Riku cleverly asked for a beer in her language with a perfect accent. She was surprised but genuinely delighted; she kept asking, "Bidu desu ka? Bidu desu??" Unfortunately, Riku's brain took that moment to forget that hai meant yes and reverted to French— _oui. _

But there were the sad moments of public epic fail.

_Riku was standing in front of Sora in line to board the airplane to France. About twelve other students plus faculty stood behind them; they were leaving for the annual class trip to Europe. Riku was wearing a dark, button down shirt through which you could see his muscles, a pair of black slacks, and cool shoes._

The man ahead of him moved forward. Riku stepped up and the female ticket clerk immediately blushed. She eyed him appreciatively. Riku, quite the tease, winked and smiled at her. She practically gushed.

She swallowed, held out her hand, and said in a mostly normal-sounding voice.

"May I see your ticket, please?"

Riku reached into his pocket and pulled them out. However, before he handed them to her, his face fell. His expression contorted in utter despair and pre-apocolyptic panic.

He started sobbing and wailed, _**"I don't have any underwear!!" **_

And that was the highlight of Riku's first European experience. That poor employee was in tears.

(XXX)

It was fourth period, the first of Sora's two frees. He had it with Roxas and Kairi. Or, for the past four months, just Kairi, because fourth period was also Hayner's free, which usually meant that he and Roxas bunked off to some dark corner of the school and screwed around. So Sora was instead immersed with Kairi's plans for sabotaging the school play.

"Kairi, I'm still surprised that they let you be chief tech," Sora said over his U.S. History notebook.

"I told you, they haven't caught me yet. I'm not the only one that works on all the theater productions, and I don't do it every time," the slender redhead said, somewhat exasperated.

She leaned in close and whispered, "I only do that when Pence, Fuu, or both are on. Anyway, my vision for _Romeo and Juliet _this year is a dramatic comedy. I just wish I could persuade the actors to deviate from the script..."

Sora snorted. "Oh yeah, it's too bad that all the people who bother to memorize their lines and show up for practice are _serious _about their art."

"I've actually gotten Fuu to help me out a couple of times, but she's never on stage."

"Fuu's lights or something, right? How'd you get her to help you?"

"She's quiet, she likes my Saix, and she's a bit of a kink. And after seeing her photo, Saix didn't need to be persuaded for a threesome."

The brunet stared at his friend, wide-eyed. Kairi beamed. She fingered the silver ring on a silver chain around her neck. The band had a relatively simple design, but a sizable cut amethyst that was always glittering prettily. The stone matched her eyes.

"Did Saix get that for you?"

"Yes!" Kairi squealed, then composed herself and smirked. "He thinks I'm brilliant."

Saix was twenty one and in college. Kairi was seventeen and a junior, like Sora.

Sora glanced at the clock over the door to the cafeteria and grimace slightly. He shoved the U.S. History notebook into his backpack and pulled out his trigonometry text. He might as well finish something during his free.

(XXX)

Axel went looking for Roxas during lunch and found him making out with Hayner. As usual, Axel went all weird on Roxas after that—he alternated between grumpy, austere, and demanding the blond's attention. Then, during the free after lunch, Roxas caused his green-eyed friend to slip and fall face first onto a freshly mud-painted car.

Roxas escaped with his life then, but now it was gym, and he had gym with Axel.

The gym teacher, an ironically round, squat man of forty, told them to run laps, Roxas knew what was coming. And bolted. He sprinted for dear life on his little legs while he heard the enraged howls of the best friend and part-time freak that was Axel barreling after him. At this speed, if the redhead caught up to him, it would end in an agonizing slide and tumble across the sticky gym floor. If he was lucky, Roxas would have enough skin left intact for skin grafts.

Axel was screaming at him, drawing the attention of the entire gym class. Roxas did not want this attention, and he decided, right then, that he didn't want to die. So the next time he was close to the door, he sprinted into the hallway, and all the way into the front parking lot. His maneuvers confused Axel enough to give the blond the six seconds he needed to unlock his car door, wrench it open, hurl himself inside, and lock the door again.

In the darkness of his mud-encased car, he heard Axel swearing at him and felt the car shake as the redhead slammed his hands on the car body.

Roxas hugged his knees to his chest and turned on the radio to drown out Axel's voice. It worked to an extent. He could still hear Axel a bit over the guitar notes, drum solos, and lyrics.

_'And I just can't look, it's killing me  
And taking control—  
Jealousy, turning saints into the sea…'_

Roxas hunkered down in his car even all traces of Axel, other than the mud, disappeared. The blond couldn't drive with his car like this, anyway. Besides, for all he knew, that idiot was hiding under his car.

He groaned when the bell rang. He needed to get his clothes and change—he didn't want to go home in his reeking gym clothes, and who knew what Axel would do to his clothes?

But Roxas perked up when, suddenly, he saw the spray of a hose and a white towel wiping his front windshield. Well, he perked up until he saw Axel's glowering face behind that blessed towel.

When Roxas car was stripped of its luxurious mud mask, Roxas dared to roll down the window. Axel thrust his clothes through the opening. The blond grimaced; his clothes were soaked through, but he took them. A minute later, he heard the passenger door open as his friend slid into the other seat.

"You're driving me home," Axel stated, arms crossed, still frowning.

"Dude, you live four blocks away from the school. And you soaked my clothes."

"So? Put them on, already. You reek."

"They're _soaked!" _

Axel grabbed his wet clothes and tore off Roxas' gym shirt. He then tried to strip Roxas of his pants, but gave up after much scrambling, swearing, and a rather hard kick in the face. Not content with this, Axel leaped out of the car, with Roxas' keys and gym shirt.

So the blond had little choice now. He glanced around and saw Axel's back leaning against the rear of the car. Roxas quickly shimmied into the wet, squelchy shirt. His pants were still on the passenger seat. Soaking the leather. Roxas growled and tossed them into the back.

He rolled down the window again.

"All right, ya prick, come back."

If Axel noticed that Roxas was still wearing his gym pants, he didn't comment. His mood suddenly took a turn for he better. He grinned, hummed along with the music, and fiddled with things he shouldn't have fiddled with—like the gear shift, which sent them shooting backwards at thirty miles an hour on a, fortunately, vacant street. By the time the black Deathmobile pulled up to Axel's house, Roxas was just a little ticked off. He booted the redhead out of the car, flipped him off, and drove away.

Axel spat out some dirt, picked himself up, and dusted off his long black coat, smiling cheerily.

He hummed a few lines from the last song playing on the radio.

_'But it's just the price I pay,  
Destiny is calling me;  
Open up my eager eyes,  
'Cause I'm Mr. Brightside!'_

(XXX)

Meanwhile, someone's ADD medication was wearing off. And that someone was Sora. He didn't have ADHD, so he didn't turn into a ball of spastic energy. However, he _did _get a bit silly and giggly after his medication lost its effect. And when Sora was silly, that made Kairi silly, and eventually the bug infected Riku, as well. But the silver-haired male enjoyed some resistance, so was able to finish up his homework at the kitchen table while Sora and Kairi ran around his house, screaming, and hitting each other with toilet plungers.

Luckily for Riku, he was just packing his books into his bag when the two loons found the sugar.

Somewhere along the line, Kairi lost her shirt, jacket, and shoes and Sora tossed his shirt but gained a pair of leather gloves pinned over his ears. Riku didn't know why, but he correctly guessed that, as usual, there was no reason.

For some reason, those two always seemed to get naked at Riku's house. Kairi would take something off, inspiring Sora to do the same, until they looked like two college students messing around at a frat party. Sora didn't usually undress unless Kairi was there, though, and that worried Riku slightly.

The brunet and the slender redhead were currently downing a bag of Skittles.

Sora wrapped his arm around Kairi's shoulders and went over to bother their elder best friend. Sora started tickling him—he knew the silver-haired male's weak spots: juncture between collarbone and side neck, armpits, middle of the spine, and knees. Kairi locked Riku's arms behind his back, laughing, as he struggled to kick himself free. He nearly fell out of his chair, and then the entire thing almost fell over, and Riku and Sora landed on the floor.

Riku took his momentary advantage to toss the younger male over his shoulder and hustle out to the backyard. Kairi followed, giggling, and only laughed harder as Sora screamed "Traitor!" repeatedly. He squirmed, but half-heartedly, because he didn't want a face full of splinters or gravel, and he was kind of afraid of heights. But he knew what was coming and could only scream when Riku threw him into the pool.

Sora resurfaced, spitting out the foul-tasting water.

"Argh, it went up my nose!" he whined. Riku smirked.

"Watch out, Riku!" Kairi screamed, and then he felt a jet of ice-cold water on his back. Riku yelped, spun, and leaped into the pool, where he was ambushed yet again.

The two boys wrestled in the water, beating each other with waves. Kairi went inside and returned with large, solar-powered ipod speakers.

"Hey, Riku," the redhead called, "Can Saix come over?"

"Yeah, sure!" he replied, then swerved to avoid Sora's grappling arms.

Within twenty minutes, the sugar high was in full force. Kairi exacerbated the problem by bringing out more candy and sodas. She made herself a Shirley Temple cocktail and danced to her music on the pool deck. When Saix showed up, he joined her, and threw them both into the pool when they got too hot under the sun. But they continued dancing in the water, then up the pool steps, and onto the tan, stone pool deck again. Saix was one of the few guys Riku or Sora knew who would dance with his girlfriend as long as she wanted, no matter who was watching.

_'I said he doesn't look a thing like Jesus,  
But he talks like a gentleman,  
Like you imagined when you were young—  
When you were young!'_

The speakers roared out infectious songs with beats that made them want to move and cast out lyrics that made their minds whirl. The fading sunlight made them feel like they knew exactly what the singer really meant when he wrote the words, and that always felt good. Their heartbeats matched the sharp-shooting notes of melodic guitars and the snare drum burrowed into their bones, where it forced them to move like they wanted to.

Eventually, the songs grew quieter, and that was fine because they were all coming down from their sugar high. Saix and Kairi were either making out and rolling around in the grass somewhere, or they were making out on one of the pool chaises. Riku didn't care. He and Sora were still in the pool and they weren't thinking about anyone else.

Riku was crouched in the water, supporting Sora's lower back with one hand so he could keep his head afloat. Riku's other hand was on his friend's left ankle. The brunet pressed his feet tight against Riku's hips, using him as an anchor so he wouldn't drift.

They did this sort of thing since they were kids, although less often now. But as the sunlight took on a faint, reddish hue and the speakers crooned out something mellow, Riku really, really didn't want to move.

He watched Sora turn his head sideways, then straight, and spit pool water out of his mouth like a fountain.

Riku didn't know what to do. He wanted more, but if he tried for more, he might be left with nothing. And even if rejection wasn't a possibility, there was a trembling feeling in his stomach—excitement, anticipation—at the thought of touching Sora. The feeling tickled him, and he liked it. He didn't want that to go away just yet.

(XXX)

That was chapter one. Reviews are loved! Thank you!

I've never heard of Saix/Kairi, but when I was in the middle of writing this, I liked the option. He seems sweet, though he's a berserker.

Titles and bands:

_"I'm comin' out of my cage / And I've been doing just fine"  
"And I just can't look, it's killing me / And taking control— / Jealousy, turning saints into the sea"  
"But it's just the price I pay, / Destiny is calling me; / Open up my eager eyes, / 'Cause I'm Mr. Brightside" _**—"Mr Brightside" by **_**The Killers. **_**Hot Fuss album. **

_"I said he doesn't look a thing like Jesus, / But he talks like a gentleman, / Like you imagined when you were young— / When you were young!" _**–"When You Were Young" by **_**The Killers. **_**Sam's Town album. **


	2. Never though I'd let a rumor

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Kingdom Hearts, or any characters, places, or items appearing in the Kingdom Hearts game series, and I do not receive payment for the use of these materials. I do not own any lyrics found in this fic and I do not receive payment for their use. If lyrics are used in any chapter, I will cite the artist to whom they belong at the end of the chapter.****

Author's Notes: I've been juggling writing for this fic, a Labyrinth fic, beta-reading for someone, and working on fan art. At least it's nice to have a predictable work schedule. My goal is to only work on one chapter of one fic at a time, so I can avoid total confusion.

**Thank you **xxBeautifulxxNightmarexx and blu_blade for your encouraging reviews! I loved them.

**Question for you: **what is it about that summary that led (some of) you to the "epic fail" expectation for this fic?

**Son of the Moon**

_Chapter two: 'Never thought I'd let a rumor ruin my moonlight'_

~*~

"_Breaking my back just to know your name;  
Seventeen tracks and I've had it with this game.  
I'm breaking my back just to know your name,  
But heaven ain't close in a place like this,  
Anything goes but don't blink, you might miss!"_

—_The Killers, "Somebody Told Me"_

~*~

In the Land of the Dead, Roxas was clacking away at his keyboard in his dark, emo room. His speakers were blaring the peppy, hyper tune of "Caramelldansen" from Stepmania. Axel called him a douche for liking this song. While the redhead liked electronica and techno, he preferred the kind that involved the dubious use of gas masks.

He was telling Riku about Axel's erratic behavior after seeing him and Hayner together behind the hedges in the back of the school.

**WhotheHellisRoxas69:** After, he was all pissy and bitchy. He tried to kill me during pe and chased me to my car where he screamed at me and beat on the glass.

**Baptismal_Blade:** lol That's what you get

**WhotheHellisRoxas69:** And he demanded that I drive him home. By the way, he could have killed me. No wonder his mom doesn't let him drive.

**WhotheHellisRoxas69:** That's what I get for what?

**Baptismal_Blade:** For dating someone else while being best friends w/ a guy who obviously has it for you

**WhotheHellisRoxas69:** I seriously hope you don't mean what I think you mean. Has what for me?

**Baptismal_Blade:** The mega-horn. Wild for you. He wanks to you

**WhotheHellisRoxas69: ** Axel isn't in band.

**Baptismal_Blade:** …Roxas, I know you're friends w/ him, but I KNOW you're not as dumb as him

**WhotheHellisRoxas69:** Please tell me you're not serious. How long has this been going on? How long have you known/suspected this?

**Baptismal_Blade: ** For, like…EVER

**WhotheHellisRoxas69:** So what the hell do I do?

**Baptismal_Blade: **How should I know? I have to think about dealing w/ Sora

**WhotheHellisRoxas69:** Did you find those gloves in the pool yet?

**Baptismal_Blade:** NO. AND THEY'RE MY MOM'S. SHE'S GONNA KILL ME

**WhotheHellisRoxas69:** lol Did he find his shirt eventually?

**Baptismal_Blade:** …

**WhotheHellisRoxas69:** You kept it, didn't you?

**Baptismal_Blade:** Don't tell him. Please.

Roxas wasn't sure why, but this news about Axel unsettled him. Not because he was used to thinking that Axel _didn't have_ feelings because he was a fricking tree—which, as everyone knew, is a plant, and plants _can_ feel pain—but because he was…Axel. Who had the emotional depth and consistency of a part-time heroin-addict and amateur squirrel.

And that squirrel didn't have the brains to prepare for winter.

(XXX)

The next day, while pouring over his soggy cereal, Roxas decided that the best course of action was to avoid Axel. Of course. Because avoiding the problem which isn't yet a problem is the best way to solve the problem—which is currently non-existent. And the problem wasn't Axel's sexual feelings towards him, but Roxas' discomfort with this knowledge. But Roxas wasn't ready to think of that just then. No, he wasn't ready to acknowledge that he might ditch a best friend because of his erections. Not like Roxas had any experience with _those._

Suddenly, he felt his cell phone vibrate in his pants pocket. He dug it out and flipped it open.

"Hello?" he rasped in his morning voice.

It was Kairi. Who also might have ESP—give or take an 'N.'

"Roxas, you're such a eunuch."

The call ended and Roxas stared groggily at the bright screen, trying to move the gear shift of his brain into Drive, instead of god damn, motherfucking, redheaded REVERSE.

He eventually managed—and he didn't drive his car backwards up the street, either.

(XXX)

Roxas arrived in the school parking lot later than usual that morning and made a mad dash from his Deathmobile into homeroom. He was lucky: no redheaded stalkers were waiting for him this day. The blond threw himself down in his usual seat—in the desk next to Sora.

"What's wrong with you?" Sora asked, twisting his head to peer into his look-a-like's ominous expression.

"Axel," he grunted.

"But that's been going on for years. The medication finally not cutting it for ya?"

Roxas glared at the blue-eyed wonder, who was contentedly sipping his _'French Vanilla Café: Sugar Free and Naturally Decaffeinated!' _from an orange mug.

"All right, gaybo."

Sora grinned cheekily at him. "What I always aspired to be: a hobo and a…well, not a gay person, but that just _happened."_

"Careful, or Riku might jizz himself," Roxas said cruelly. He could just see Riku's usually cool, collected face contort with bruising indignity and rage. And he could _see_ Riku's face change because Riku sat on the other side of Sora. _Cheers!  
_  
Riku gave him a death glare that looked like his face had been pressed for hours in a stinking vat of horse piss and lard.

The homeroom bell rang and the announcements came on over the PA. Roxas glanced at his schedule. The class schedule, which had changed every year for three years because the bloody administration couldn't make up their minds, rotated by one class every day while still having the same number of classes every day. So, yesterday, Roxas' last class was gym, which meant that his first class today was gym. Gym with Axel. Roxas wasn't ready for that.

_"Heeeeeeeeey,_ Sora," the blond said in his best _I'm-totally-not-creepin'_ voice.

"I require cash up front," Sora stated, not looking up from his stupid drink. "No checks or credit cards, thank you."

"I need you to switch with me for first period."

"What's your first period?"

"Gym. You?"

"English. You good at it?"

"I'm all right. No tests or quizzes today?"

"Jah. Now why do you need to swap today?"

"Axel. I'm avoiding him."

"Roxas, he's gay._ You're _gay," Sora said pointedly.

"Did _everyone _know about this before me?!" Roxas hissed, more at Riku than Sora. The silver-haired male just whistled and smirked.

"Well, we didn't bother to announce it because we thought you…er…weren't as thick as him."

"Whatever. So can you switch with me today? Please?"

"Yes, for twenty bucks and the combination to your gym locker."

So the necessary items and bits of information were exchanged. And life went on, for better or for worse, rather than happily ever after.

(XXX)

Sora was standing on the pool deck, proudly sporting Roxas' ugly orange and blue swim trunks. And he was standing next to a wiry, towering redhead in a black and red speedo. Sora could feel waves of anger and resentment emanating from Axel's body. He was presenting a deep scowl to the watery, swim-suited world around him, with a remarkably deep crease between his eyebrows.

_Great._

While the gym teacher hadn't noticed the difference in "Roxas," the best friend sure did. And while one _could_ make a convincing case that Axel did not, in fact, have a fully-formed brain, the redhead _did _recognize an imposter when he saw one. At least in concern to his best friend—not Splenda.

Sora and Axel stood in neighboring lines at the very front. When the instructor blew his whistle, the students lined up at the edge of the pool were supposed to dive in, swim a lap in their respective lanes, exit the pool, and rejoin the end of their line. The gym teacher blew his whistle, but Axel had other ideas. While Sora was about to dive, Axel shoved him sideways into the pool.

It took a depressing twenty seconds of watching bubbles surface before the gym teacher made someone dive in after Sora.

(XXX)

Riku and Roxas were whispering behind Mr. Simmons' back. The balding teacher of sixty was a talented instructor who had an evident, infectious passion for his subject, but he couldn't seem to make Macbeth interesting for the life of him.

"Don't you think that when Axel notices, he'll be…well, pissed?" Riku whispered to the blond. "He can get violent, you know. You remember when he first found out about you and Hayner months ago—you remember the comb."

"Yes, and I still have the scars on my ribcage," Roxas growled.

"He might take it out on Sora!"

Roxas rolled his eyes.

"Pfft. Oh, he'll be _fine."_

(XXX)

The next time Wonder Bread and Nursery Rhyme—aka, Sora and Riku—were reunited, it was in the nurse's office during first lunch. Sora, childhood champion of the wheat, was lying on a cot with a fever, groaning about how he could still taste the pool water, and it tasted like piss. He shivered under a pristine white wool blanket that who knows how many disease-ridden students had touched.

The two school nurses were a middle-aged man named Mr. Levasseur from Canada and a pretty, thirty-something woman who liked the students to call her Nikei. Today, however, Mr. Levasseur was not in, so Riku had the chance to work his handsome, silver-haired, muscled magic—oh _god. _He smiled at the woman like they shared dark, moist secrets and spoke to her as though every word out of his mouth alluded to dreamy rendezvous on the starlit Paris streets and fantasies shared in underground London. Nikei's dark skin flushed with a lovely reddish glow.

And this was how Riku smarmed his way into driving poor, sick Sora home, even though he wasn't his legal guardian.

Riku had to make two trips to his car: one to transport their backpacks and another to carry Sora. Riku could have carried both at once, but his best friend was flailing in a way that would have landed them both on the ground had Riku been balancing anything else.

In Nikei's defense, she really _was _a responsible, intelligent, talented, and professionally appropriate woman. However, Riku was a formidable opponent to the social ideal that "psychologically healthy adults are never sexually attracted to sexual beings below the age of eighteen." Even Mr. Levasseur, an unquestionably heterosexual man, had trouble dealing _'appropriately'_ with Riku.

Riku buckled Sora safely into the passenger seat, and put a towel in his lap. While the silver-haired male did, for some reason, have beach towels in his car, he did not have a bucket to catch vomit, and he told Sora as much.

"Just puke into the towel, okay?" he said, sliding into the driver's seat.

Sora was losing the glazed look in his eyes. Riku felt his best friend's forehead—his temperature was decreasing, thankfully.

"I'll drive you to school tomorrow so you won't have to take the bus. Your car should be safe here for one night."

Riku backed out of the parking spot and exited the lot. He drove smoothly for the sake of Sora's stomach, as Sora was still far from optimum health, if his persistent gurgling was any indication. They were almost to Sora's house when a deer suddenly jumped out into the middle of the road. Riku slammed on the breaks, throwing both he and his passenger forward. Sora tried desperately not to vomit into his towel.

"Stupid dogs, they're everywhere. Sorry, Sora," Riku said after the dumb deer trotted away. Wonder Bread leered, trembling, at the silver-haired male.

"_Dogs? _God _damn _it, Riku."

(XXX)

Riku unlocked the front door, carried Sora into the family room, and gently deposited him on the couch. Riku then dashed back to his car to get their backpacks and locked up behind him. Once he was sure no burglar would be prancing in, he went about getting "sick person equipment," which included blankets, buckets, thermometers, rubber gloves, pain killers, and soup. The blankets, bucket, thermometer, and pain killers went into their proper places on or in Sora, except for the rubber gloves. Those poor gloves thought their destiny was to engulf Riku's hands when cleaning up vomit, but no—their hopes were crushed as they found themselves placed on the pouty, pathetic patient's ears. Riku tried to keep from smiling—Sora looked so…

_Not_ cute. Because men, real men, did not use the word "cute."

So instead of using _that _emasculating word, Riku let out a strangled coo. His eyes went all misty and his lips quirked up in an odd _I'm-not-smiling-because-you're-cute-I'm-really-not_ expression. Fortunately, he recovered quickly. He checked the thermometer: the fever was steadily falling.

"You like doing that, don't you?" Riku asked, eyeing Sora's head accessories. His best friend only huffed in response and shooed him away to get soup.

For the life of him, Riku couldn't find any soup in the house; no cans, packets, or other instant-crap. He opted for a stick of raw Tollhouse cookie dough. And while unorthodox, Riku quickly became Sora's favorite nurse in the world—until he started projectile vomiting an hour later.

In between Sora's spews, Riku managed to cart his friend into the bathroom. He remained there, rubbing Sora's back and holding his long bangs out of the way as he emptied his stomach into the toilet bowl.

When Sora had another moment of peace, he launched his anger at Riku.

"Haven't you been watching the news lately?! E. Coli outbreaks from this crap!" he rasped viciously. Or as viciously as a wet sandwich.

Riku grunted and crossed his arms defensively.

"Yea, I have. And if you already knew about the risk, why the _hell_ did you _eat _it?"

"Because I can't smell, so I can't taste well, and I wasn't looking because the light is giving me a migraine!" Sora screeched, and vomited again. When the last of the cookie dough was out of his stomach, the brunet slumped onto the tile floor, groaning.

"I'm telling everyone about your secret spy name," Sora said in a deadened whisper.

"Oh, come _on!_ I was a dumb kid, and you said you wouldn't tell!!"

"Oh, but I _would, _Nursery Rhyme," Sora snickered, grinning maliciously. Riku growled and wiped his friend's face clean rather roughly with toilet paper.

"If you do, I'll tell everyone about _yours,"_ Riku countered.

"'Wonder Bread' is my style; no one would be surprised. And besides," Sora said, flashing his pretty, baby-blue eyes at his best friend—"I'm _Wonder Bread."_

"I should kill you," Riku growled, carrying Sora into the family room again.

"Then you would get a bad reference and no hospital would hire you again," the brunet replied brightly.

"This is not a hospital."

"This is not a democracy!"

"You are not my friend."

Sora's fever grew worse until he began flailing about in what Riku presumed was delirium. The silver-haired male's pride was still smarting though he was somewhat worried, so he stationed himself beside his patient on the couch and glared at the television screen.

Sora began singing the tune of "Rubber Ducky" in a thin, quavering voice.

"Banana hammocks, you're the one! You make gym class so much fun…"

"You're off-key, Sora."

Sora started wailing in distress.

The brunet eventually fell onto the floor, and stayed there. Hours later, when his parents arrived home from work, they found their only son puddling about on the floor like a Magikarp. Or a Muk—they weren't sure, and neither was Sora.

(XXX)

Meanwhile, in the Land of the Flamers, Axel was steaming on the sofa in his family room. He couldn't stop picturing Roxas and Hayner making out with clothing riding up and hands everywhere and _euurgh_. Hayner was such a lesbian.

_'And I just can't look, it's killing me  
And taking control—  
Jealousy, turning saints into the sea;  
Swimming through sick lullabies,  
Choking on your alibis…'_

Axel tugged his ipod earphones out and sauntered over to the computer. The dark screen flared up with light and he began web surfing to take his mind off of Roxas and 'Euurgh.' He sifted through emails, spam and otherwise, clicked links, somehow got lost, and wound up glaring at an empty search engine box.

Roxas had been dallying with Hayner for just over four months now—wasn't he tired of him yet? What outside force would finally convince Roxas of the enormous connotations of Hayner's handbag?

Axel clicked on another tab on his browser. There, one thing led to another until he found himself staring at an enormous photo gallery of New York City's famous and beloved Naked Cowboy. Something horrifying clicked with something gullible in the redhead's brain then. He smirked, went back to that search engine, and started typing. He ordered a bunch of things from a Western clothing site, using his mother's credit card. Rush delivery.

"Gotcha!" he hissed, snapping his fingers delightedly.  
_  
'But it's just the price I pay,  
Destiny is calling me…'_

(XXX)

Chapter two. A deep, heartfelt thanks for my readers! Your reviews are greatly appreciated.

Don't worry; the Roxas/Hayner is temporary. Roxas is going to leave him in a ditch somewhere. (And you think I'm joking.)

Titles and bands:

"_Never thought I'd let a rumor ruin my moonlight" –_**"Somebody Told Me" by**_** The Killers.**_**Hot Fuss album.**

_"__Breaking my back just to know your name; / Seventeen tracks and I've had it with this game. / I'm breaking my back just to know your name, / But heaven ain't close in a place like this, / Anything goes but don't blink, you might miss!__" _**—"Somebody Told Me" by**_** The Killers.**_**Hot Fuss album.**_  
_  
_"And I just can't look, it's killing me / And taking control—Jealousy, turning saints into the sea; / Swimming through sick lullabies, / Choking on your alibis. / But it's just the price I pay, / Destiny is calling me" _**–"Mr. Brightside" by **_**The Killers.**_** Hot Fuss album.**


	3. Crop circles in the carpet

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Kingdom Hearts, or any characters, places, or items appearing in the Kingdom Hearts game series. I do not own any lyrics found in this fic. If lyrics are used in any chapter, I will cite the artist to whom they belong at the end of the chapter. I do not own titles of books or characters from books mentioned in this fic. I do not receive payment for the use of any of these materials.

**Author's Note: **Despite what you may be inclined to think, this story has a plot. It's now chapter three and things are just starting to get moving.

**Thank you **xxBeautifulxxNightmarexx, iluvtoady, and putu for your encouraging reviews. If not for you three I would have been discouraged.

**Question for you: **do you like the new summary?

Enjoy. Pleasant dreams.

**Son of the Moon**

_Chapter three: 'Crop circles in the carpet'_

~*~

'_Where are we?  
What the hell is going on?  
The dust has only just begun to form  
Crop circles in the carpet—  
Sinking feeling.'_

—_Imogen Heap, "Hide and Seek"_

~*~

Riku covered his mouth as he gave a wide yawn; he really could have used a sip of Sora's stupid drink right then, even if it didn't have caffeine. He glanced at the clock in his home room. He'd gotten up earlier than usual to drive Sora to school, as he promised, only to lean from Sora's father that Sora got a ride from his mother.

The silver-haired male squinted at Sora, who was decidedly turned away from him. He had his orange mug held protectively in his hands and was nursing his drink as he listened to Roxas animatedly blather on about Axel. As far as Riku knew, Sora didn't actually care much about the recent turn southward in Roxas and Axel's friendship. However, by paying attention to the blond, Sora had another reason not to interact with Riku.

When the bell rang to signal the end of homeroom, Sora grabbed his bag and darted out of the room without a glance in Riku's direction. The silver-haired male sighed and slowly got his stuff and headed for the library; his first period that day was his free. He could finish up the homework he neglected while "nursing" Sora.

The school library was a very large area. There were multiple levels, staircases, an elevator, a computer area, a study area, and a reading area in addition to the dozens of bookshelves dividing the rooms. The library was almost equal in size to the entire gymnasium due to the significant increase in students in the past twenty years.

Riku went up the staircase to a table in the back of the second floor. He had acts to read in _Macbeth_, trigonometry worksheets, and a quiz to study for in biology. Riku sped through the bio and trig assignments and flung himself onto the huge pages of his English text. _Macbeth_. Urgh. Riku realized then that he could count only a few lines and verses from Shakespeare's works that he liked, and most of those examples were sexual or alluded to Greek and Roman mythology.

_'She will not stay the siege of loving terms…Nor ope her lap to saint-seducing gold.'_ Riku believed that alluded to the myth of Danae, whose father locked her in a tower because an oracle prophesized that her son would murder him. Zeus, however, came to Danae as a shower of gold and she had his son. Riku loved being able to connect the dots like this.

And every page of _Macbeth_, a seemingly endless drabble about anger, madness, and blood, lacked anything to titillate the sex-hyped teenage mind. Riku didn't normally need sexual innuendo or allusions to mythology to keep his attention, but in the case of something as dreary and long as _Macbeth,_ double-entendres were the only thing that tempted his focus. But Riku pressed on—and he really did try. But his reading of a boring text went as such activities do, and somehow he found himself making a valentine card for Sora.

The card was half _get well soon_ and half _get that stick out of your ass and talk to me, you freak_ in sentiment. It was in the shape of a heart and it had a disgustingly happy smiley face.

(XXX)

With the answer to his problem almost in his grasp, Axel was in a much better mood. So soothed, he didn't badger or confront Roxas; the redhead was confident. He could wait.

Axel's indulgence of the blond's wish for distance didn't go unnoticed, but as nothing had been spelled out, Roxas wasn't sure what this meant. When Roxas sped off to do laps around the gym, Axel didn't try to close the gap between them. And though Axel felt peaceful that day, the sight of his best friend ahead of him felt like more than running laps in a gym.

It felt like Roxas was running away from him, and he was never going to stop.

After gym, Axel watched his best friend dart into the showers; he didn't see him again before he left for his free period. The redhead tossed this observation into the back of his mind as he walked into the cafeteria. Sora and Kairi were there, but no Roxas, though that was no surprise.

Axel sat in the chair next to Kairi and across from Sora at the table. He checked the table for sticky residue and crumbs, then rested his head on the table, using his arms as a pillow. His eyes were closed, but he instinctively looked in the direction of Kairi's head when she started talking to him. They had Intro to Film together; they watched something yesterday in class that interested her. It gave her an idea for the school play, if only she could pull it off.

She was alone on her project this time—it as the school's major theater production this year, and none of the other backstage hands were willing to botch it.

"You know the pulley system over the stage? I could attach something—maybe some costumed mannequins—to the ropes and swing them across at particularly romantic moments. But I can't do it alone," Kairi trailed off, sounding quite wistful.

"I can help you out," Axel said without really thinking. It might take his mind off of Roxas and the lesbian boyfriend.

Kairi was ecstatic, and that in turn made Axel's mood improve, because people weren't really ecstatic with him…ever. It made him happy how excitedly she started speaking, and it was because of something he could do. The male redhead's heart, originally two sizes too small, grew three times its size.

Now, he just needed a ramshackle Santa costume and to change his name to "Mr. Grinch."

"You know those two six-foot tall, animated witches with the glowing eyes that cackle when you turn them on in your front yard?" she asked.

Because Axel did, in fact, have two six-foot tall, animated witches with glowing eyes that cackled when someone turned them on, all year round. It was his mother's decision; she thought it gave an "interesting" atmosphere. Axel's mum's supposed sanity may give some clue as to why Axel wasn't "normal."

"Yeah," he said nervously. He didn't like talking about the animated witches; he wasn't totally sure they needed batteries to work.

"Think we could nab those for the opening night?"

"Sure, but I'd have to ask, first."

"Please don't tell her what we're going to use them for!"

Axel gave her an odd look.

"Kairi, my mum would _love_ to parade them in front of an audience of child-safety-rating clingers and conservative old women with heart problems."

The female redhead seemed pleasantly surprised. She hugged Axel. Axel, who hadn't been hugged in a long time by anyone except for his mother, Roxas, and a _really_ touchy-feely male teacher, was startled. It took him a moment to remember the proper response: someone hugs you, you hug back—unless they're a Commie or Catholic, like his mother taught him.

After a moment or two, Kairi released him and the two redheads continued devising their plans. Axel was getting into it—it sounded like fun.

Kairi trailed off—she was looking towards the entrance to the cafeteria. Axel followed her gaze to see Hayner walking in, alone. This was a surprise because Roxas' friends didn't usually see Hayner unless he was with Roxas.

As Hayner passed where they were sitting, Kairi asked him why he wasn't with Roxas.

Hayner paused and shrugged. He said simply, "He just wanted to be alone."

The gel-happy blond glared when his gaze fell upon the male redhead.

Axel bristled and got up from his slouch to sit on the table.

"Go fall off a cliff, you lesbian!" he called from his perch.

Hayner scowled, said something under his breath, and stalked off. After Hayner was out of earshot, Sora got Axel's attention.

"Why do you call him Roxas' 'lesbian boyfriend'?" he asked. Kairi leaned in, similarly curious.

With a straight face, Axel deadpanned, "He has a large, metallic purple handbag. I've seen it."

(XXX)

Though Sora was sitting right next to him in Trig, Riku felt lonely. Sora was still giving him the cold shoulder—he wouldn't even deign to reply to any of Riku's texts.

The obscenely happy valentine in Riku's binder was starting to look useful.

Sora didn't go up to the board when the Mrs. Barillo wanted answers to the homework questions, which was surprising, because Riku knew the brunet enjoyed proving himself. Alas, that day, Sora kept his bum planted firmly in his seat. Trig wasn't the same without Sora's Angle-Side-Side to admire.

The more he thought about how much he enjoyed Sora's company, the closer he came to realizing that maybe his "liking" Sora was a bit more than just "liking" Sora. Just a little more—just a bit. Just a smidge.

…Okay, maybe a lot more.

He enjoyed being with Sora when he was a smug slice of _'Wonder Bread,'_ hyper, serious, or even when he was pouty. Other than having to deal with vomit, Riku derived satisfaction from nursing Sora, because…even if Sora was flailing and hallucinating, Riku got to touch him when he carried him from couch to toilet and back. He recalled touching Sora's ankle and back in the pool the other day, and a warm, pleasant sensation spread through his body. Riku had a sore weakness for those big, baby-blue eyes and his lissome smile.

Sora's smile made Riku smile, even when he was stressed and overworked before midterms or final exams, after he'd nearly crashed his dad's car after getting his driver's license, whenever some jackass at school pissed him off and he had to throttle him to maintain his reputation despite the penalties if caught. And though Sora laughed whenever Riku's brain went on a very sudden vacation and he did something stupid, his best friend didn't think less of him for it. And because Sora made him smile and didn't consider him stupid for something as bloody dumbfounding as forgetting best friend's name or _waiting for the stop sign to turn green, _Sora made Riku happy, and so was entitled to certain privileges.

Like accidentally forcing Riku to skim his pool for almost two straight hours searching for those _god forsaken gloves_—god, Riku was going to _kill_ him—and never hearing a moan or complaint from him. Or the privilege of leisurely leaving Riku's presence unscathed after calling him by the _stupid_ spy name he took when he was seven.

Riku even sometimes experienced a sick, sordid, secret satisfaction when Sora called him _'Nursery Rhyme.'_ But only sometimes—under very specific conditions. Like when he whispered it at night so the syllables brushed softly between his lips like a cloud of powder from a moth's wings. Or when he hissed it suddenly, then flashed his big, blue eyes and gave him a pleasant smile that curled his lips and reminded Riku of a simple wooden boat on the serene sea. Or when he'd coo coquettishly, if his mood was playful, and his expression made Riku think of crystal chandeliers, velvet seats, and cultured laughter before the rise of the burgundy curtain above the stage.

But Riku coveted Sora's whispers—a few of them still haunted him, producing a delightful shiver when they floated through his mind. They elicited visions of water droplets on tan skin, the colors of a bonfire on the beach against the dusky sky, and the way the leaves danced in the wind of a cool autumn evening.

Yet the knowledge that he could _like _it when Sora called him by his childhood spy name made Riku want to curl into a fetal position and die, or beat his head into a wall until unconscious. Whichever was less conspicuous.

(XXX)

When the last bell rang, Riku got his books and strolled leisurely to his car. It was Friday, but he thought of Axel, poor sod, who had Glee Club. Riku snickered.

The silver-haired male drove to Sora's house, fished the valentine out of his backpack, and rang the doorbell. He waited a bit, rang it again, then finally heard footsteps.

_Wonder Bread_ wasn't _wonder_fully pleased to see him. He silently scowled at Riku from the doorway, covered by a blanket around his shoulders and a pair of thin flannel pants that hugged low on his hips.

Riku tried not to look, and handed him the valentine.

Sora took the card, looked at it, then looked at Riku with an expression that meant something like _you-are-an-idiot, _but his best friend was already backing out of his driveway.

About an hour after Riku got home, he decided to try calling Sora. Maybe the valentine's distressingly hopeful face would have softened him by then.

Somewhat surprisingly, Sora answered his cell phone. The conversation, however, was short, and by far the most memorable part of it was an exchange Riku overheard between Sora and Sora's dad.

"Sora," he heard the man call, "there's a half-eaten apple and a root beer on the table."

"I know," Sora yelled back. "Isn't it _marvelous?"_

(XXX)

After the nerdy members—minus Axel, who was not nerdy in the least—dispersed, Axel's mother picked him up from school. The redhead had a driver's license and he was a decent driver, except for his habit of playing with the gear shift, but his mother was a nut, and she knew her son was a nut, and feared for his life. That, or she still wanted to baby him in this odd, embarrassing, limiting fashion.

Axel's mother was a fair-skinned woman with dark green eyes and dark brown hair. She was about a foot shorter than Axel, who was pushing six-foot-five. Her son's height and vibrant hair color was evidently courtesy of his father, who was off dancing with wolves or something. In other words, his mum and dad were divorced, and neither he nor his mum cared as long as the infamous father paid ample child support.

Axel was one of those affectionate sons. He leaned over the gear shift and kissed his mum on the cheek. They conversed, about her work and his school, but when the conversation lapsed, Axel flipped open his phone and called Saix. They weren't close, but they were friendly enough to randomly call each other out of the blue.

He wound up telling the Saix about the recent events with Roxas ad asked for advice. Axel's mum overheard nothing he hadn't already told her.

"Dude," Saix rasped over the phone—apparently Axel caught him mid-work out, "Roxas is like the sort of animal whose trust you can only gain through food. Throw some peanuts at him and see what he does."

Axel thanked Saix for his advice, then asked his mum to drive to the general store. When they got there, Axel decided that Roxas probably wouldn't like peanuts, so he bought sugar cubes instead.

(XXX)

Friday night and the whole of Saturday passed by quietly, smoothly, and peacefully. Roxas and Axel often went to the downtown area on the weekend for smoothies or ice cream and sat on the low stone walls, talking and people watching. Fortunately, this weekly ritual was interrupted on Axel's end, as well as Roxas', for Kairi invited Axel over to discuss their plans for the play. Meanwhile, the blond was in the mood to lie around his house reading comic books, rereading Charles Dickens' novels, and interacting with his pet parakeet, Sasquatch. The parakeet was otherwise affectionately known by Axel as "Jesus' Technicolor Pants," for bird was a pretty thing of mainly white and dashes of light greens, yellows, and blues. Thinking about Sasquatch's second name made Roxas smile.

Sora, meanwhile, was enjoying himself immensely by playing video games, helping his parents cook, and taking the only leash-trained cat of the family's three felines for walks around his neighborhood. He avoided Riku's street; he was still feeling a bit vengeful about the miserable effect of Riku's sucky nursing skills.

And Sora would have been happy to continue this on Sunday, had that stupid valentine's sappy face made him _deign_ to give Riku the honor of his presence. He even made a valentine to answer Riku's. He called his best friend.

"So, did my valentine finally work its magic?" Riku asked, sounding smug.

Sora took the high road—which meant acting like his knickers were in a twist.

"I have decided to give you a valentine in return," he sniffed, and told Riku to meet him at the end of his street.

When the two met up, the brunet was less than cordial.

"What the hell is this?" Sora asked, looking very unamused. And when _Sora_ was unamused, shit was goin' _down. _"Guys don't _do_ hearts."

Riku shifted nervously.

"It's more of a…'get well soon' and 'talk to me' heart than any other kind of heart," he said meekly.

Sora looked from Riku to the card again, then drew a red bit of paper out of his pocket and presented it to Riku.

"Well, I think this card expresses the entirety of my feelings for you," he said.

What the silver-haired male had in his hands was the most disgruntled looking heart he'd ever seen. It had the most scathing look Riku had ever known a valentine heart to give.

(**Author's Note: **There's a link to a picture of the valentines in my profile.)

Riku didn't know what to make of it—was this heart completely displeased or disgusted by his heart? Or was it momentary displeasure encapsulated within a loving heart?

"Er, right, so, do we have a truce?" Riku asked somewhat tentatively.

Sora snorted.

"Look, can you just forgive me? It was a stupid mistake."

"Sure, sure," the brunet said, smiling and waving his hand. "In part, I just wanted to give you a hard time."

"And the other part?"

"I _really_ felt like shit after the cookie dough."

As all was forgiven, the two best friends walked into downtown, talking about mundane things, amusing things, and subtly side-stepping questions about the daring exchange of valentines between teenage, male friends. Sora said Riku was brave to give him a valentine, though, and then firmly dropped the subject in favor of others: where to spend their summer vacation. They were halfway through their junior year. Riku was a year older than Sora, but his birthday was either too late or too early in the year to join kindergarten at the same time as others.

Riku, Sora, and Kairi's families lived on the mainland during the school year and traditionally spent most of summer in vacation houses on the Destiny Islands. That was where Sora and Riku first met—at ages five and six, they were inseparable. There were tears and confused tussles on the sand when the end of summer drew near, but fortunately they wound up living in the same town. Sora's family moved into a house two streets away from Riku's. They were best friends ever since, even after the somewhat upsetting installment of Kairi a couple years later. Well, it was upsetting from Riku's perspective, for in his chaotic child's mind, he vaguely understood the trend that boys _liked_ girls and eventually boys partnered with girls. Back then, Riku didn't know why he was jealous and uneasy about Kairi, but his feelings were aroused from a subconscious notion that one day Sora would choose a girl like Kairi over Riku. The silver-haired boy's fears weren't unfounded, for anyone could see an innocent, instinctual, rudimentary form of puppy-love between the brunet and the redhead.

Fortunately, it passed. Sort of. On and off, Sora and Kairi would shoot dewy looks at each other over the trunk of the paopu tree, but in between these periods, Sora sidled up to Riku. In an _I-still-don't-know-what-sex-is-but-I-feel-butterflies-when-I'm-close-to-you_ way.

Gradually, Riku warmed up to Kairi. His insecurities about her diminished somewhat around age eight or nine, which was around the time that Sora started holding his hand when they explored or walked along the beach. Sometimes, Sora would hold Kairi's hand, too, but Riku was all right because he had this privileged contact more often than she did. Riku still didn't understand sex at that age and he wouldn't grasp developed sexuality for a few years, yet holding Sora's hand evoked warm, fluffy feelings in his body, sensations which tickled his lips and made him smile brilliantly.

Years passed, and after the tumultuous development of first noticing—_really _noticing—girls had breasts and hips and boys had broad shoulders and muscles, the trio met Roxas and Axel. The two newcomers in town moved in just before freshman year of high school. The five of them bonded rather quickly.

While Riku, Sora, and Kairi usually spent their summers on the Destiny Islands, they were introduced to Twilight Town, to which Roxas and Axel's families habitually spent the summer months. The families talked, generally liked each other, and soon every school year was spent deciding whether they should next vacation on the Destiny Islands or in Twilight Town.

Sora was leaning towards Twilight Town. While a relatively new place appealed to Riku, he still had missed the Destiny Islands, or perhaps he just feared losing interest in what he considered his childhood home. His best childhood memories were there, and though Riku would be in college in two years, he didn't want to grow out of the Destiny Islands because that would mean he was growing up. There was still a tender, sentimental part of Riku that sorely wanted time to slow down, just for a while, so he could experience that part of his life once more. It didn't help that Sora seemed ready to jump and leave that part of their lives behind.

They didn't know where Kairi wanted to go, yet. And Roxas and Axel, born in a busier life than the sleepy, peaceful tropics, liked the Destiny Islands but weren't overly keen on them.

Eventually, Riku took the conversation in a different direction.

"My parents want me out of the house next weekend. Can I stay at your house?"

"Yea, sure," Sora said, nodding with the last of a grape popsickle in his mouth. "Why do they want you out?"

The silver-haired male shrugged.

"I guess my parents think they can't have sex while I'm around."

(XXX)

In the small foyer of Axel's house, the redhead was excitedly tearing apart several large cardboard boxes. His mum was leaning against a wall, idly sipping tea from a mug as she watched, amused by her only son's fervor.

She recognized the crazed look in his eyes—it ran in the family. Her son was in love, or something like it.

Tissue paper, Styrofoam peanuts, an bubble wrap were flying everywhere. A few peanuts landed in Axel's hair, skewered by the fine points of his fiery spikes. He squealed delightedly in a way that was like Axel and not at all effeminate. He held up one garment after another—cowboy hat, leather boots, tasseled jacket, trousers, belts, gun holsters, and shirts—all in black. He even got a few extra pairs of spurs. Axel pranced around his house like a ninny for the next half hour, modeling his new clothes for his mother, who loved him very much and esteemed her son as her greatest source of amusement in life.

Still euphoric, Axel called up Sora to tell him to come over so he could see his new Cowboy Crap ©.

"Why me?" came Sora's disinterested voice from the earpiece. "I'm not Roxas."

"But you're Sora, so you, like, _equal_ Roxas."

"Um."

There was silence for a long, horrifying moment. And that moment was horrifying because Sora suspected, correctly, that Axel was thinking.

"Axel…?" he asked worriedly. "What just crossed your mind…?"

"God, it's perfect! You and I could—"

"Axel, I'm not going to mess around with you to make Roxas jealous."

"Do you think it _would,_ though??"

_"No._ It'd make him _**pissed."**_

"But _Sora!_ Pleeeeeeeease?"

"No."

"Come on, I can pay—"

Suddenly, Axel heard the sounds of a phone swapping hands. The next voice that came through was Riku's, and he did not sound even remotely like a pacifist.

"Yo, flaming tree: Sora is _not_ going to touch you, kiss you, fuck you, or act like Roxas for you now, _or in this lifetime."_

There was a click; the call ended. Axel sighed and shrugged. He'd find someone else with whom he could show off. He created a mental checklist of his friends that would hang out with him and…ergh. Roxas was avoiding him, so that left Kairi.

Axel paled and drooped. He just remembered that Roxas was his only really good friend.

Meanwhile, Sora was panicking over the homicidal look in Riku's eyes.

(XXX)

Roxas was lying on his bed in his room, taking a break from reading Charles Dickens' _Oliver Twist. _As much as he loved this book, he wasn't in the mood to read anymore. He kept thinking about Axel, Axel and himself, and the knowledge of betraying his best friend. He didn't want to abandon Axel, but he was afraid.

_'Hide and seek.  
Trains and sewing machines—  
All those years;  
They were here first.'  
_  
Roxas wasn't insecure, but he knew he couldn't withstand a crush of stares of strangers without a friend. He wasn't yet convinced that, as a person, what he personally liked or didn't like wasn't wrong or weird, or that the world with all its majority votes couldn't determine otherwise. Roxas wasn't ready for judgment; he didn't have the experience, confidence, or rough scar tissue to suffer patronizing glares and overcritical analyses and honestly believe himself when he said, _"Know what? I'm fine, I'm not wrong. Fuck you."_

'Hide and seek,  
Trains and sewing machines.  
Oh, you won't catch me around here.  
Blood and tears—hearts;  
They were here first.'  
  
Roxas needed someone who didn't judge him. That person happened to be Axel. The blond was grateful and depended on Axel to be the one pair of eyes that didn't give a second thought to his veiled areas of weakness and his embarrassing notions, tender to the touch. The close friendship between Roxas and Axel was forged on safety and the trust that, between the two of them, judgment did not exist; rejection, revulsion, and disgust did not exist. Roxas needed that safety. He was surprised to realize, then, the enormous comfort that Axel's friendship had for him.

Roxas wasn't a congealing mass of tears and _'woe is me'_ sentiments. He wasn't a cutter, and he didn't have depression.

He was just…human. Human, with human insecurities, and human needs. And at some point in a human's life, he or she needs someone on their level who makes them feel _right.  
_  
His thoughts were interrupted when he felt his cell phone vibrating. It was a text message from Kairi.

'Dude, Axel's gone dippy. I mean dippier than usual. He ordered a shitload of cowboy stuff online. I think he's trying to one-up Hayner.'

Roxas, unconcerned, wrote back, 'He'd need a bigger handbag.'

(XXX)

So that was chapter three. I was so happy to do a little less "light" writing. Thank you for reading! As always, your reviews are loved.

Titles, bands, and authors:

_"Where are we? / What the hell is going on? / The dust has only just begun to form / Crop circles in the carpet— / Sinking feeling." _**–"Hide and Seek" by **_**Imogen Heap**_**. Speak for Yourself album.**

"_Hide and seek. /Trains and sewing machines— / All those years; / They were here first. / Hide and seek, / Trains and sewing machines. / Oh, you won't catch me around here. / Blood and tears (hearts); / They were here first."_** –"Hide and Seek" by **_**Imogen Heap**_**. Speak for Yourself album.**

"_She will not stay the siege of loving terms…Nor ope her lap to saint-seducing gold."_ – _**Romeo and Juliet**_**, Act 1, scene 1, by William Shakespeare. Lines 220-222.**


	4. The good old days, the honest man

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Kingdom Hearts, or any characters, places, or items appearing in the Kingdom Hearts game series. I do not own any lyrics found in this fic. If lyrics are used in any chapter, I will cite the artist to whom they belong at the end of the chapter. I do not own titles of books or characters from books mentioned in this fic. I do not receive payment for the use of any of these materials.

**Author's Note: **As you may have noticed, in the last chapter, the cheerful/amusing/hilarious mood was tempered with light angst. In the future, there will be more light to moderate angst. But fear not, for the humor will not end.

**Thank you, **xxBeautifulxxNightmarexx, Capeircorn, and blu_blade for your reviews! I squealed a little when I read them. …Shut up. XD

Capeircorn—"Hide and Seek" was the first song I heard from her. It was my first favorite of her songs. I guess I like her angsty songs most. XD I just managed to get the "Speak for Yourself" album yesterday.

xxBeautifulxxNightmarexx: I'm glad you consider this an epic win—some readers told me that the original summary of this fic gave them an "epic fail" expectation for it. XD

blu_blade, I'm so happy to see you're still reading! 8D I never thought Riku was very _romantic_ in this chapter. And I was under the vague impression that you were more focused on Axel/Roxas. Thank you for the feedback on the summary.

Enjoy. Pleasant dreams. The birth of the Cowboy.

**Son of the Moon**

_Chapter four: 'The good old days, the honest man'_

'_On the corner of main street,  
Just tryin' to keep it in line.  
You say you wanna move on and  
You say I'm falling behind—  
Can you read my mind?'_

—_The Killers, "Read My Mind"  
_

_~*~  
_

If Axel was anything—other than somewhat violent, womanish, illogical, and generally "creative"—he was honest and loyal. _Painfully_ honest, and loyal like the determined stench of a skunk on your body. And now that he was almost fully equipped with Cowboy Crap ©, he felt pretty slick, too. Western, but slick. The two canceled each other out, or that's what his mother told him.

He was _almost _fully equipped because his mum wouldn't let him buy a pistol, and the metal detectors installed at all school entrances were there for a reason, although _he_ honestly couldn't imagine what that reason was_. _Everyone breathed a sigh of relief, knowing that they were safe because Axel's mum's brain was connected in ways that her son's was not—in other words: thank God her brain worked properly.

Years later, Axel's mum would admit that she deliberately drank and smoked while pregnant, but chickened out halfway through. And that was how she got Axel.

So she wasn't initially the _best_ mother, but she loved him dearly _now,_ at least. Poor thing.

Anyway, it was Axel's time to shine. He had his leather trousers, cowboy boots, studded belts, empty gun holsters, jacket, hat, blouse, and to finish it all off: his spurs. He couldn't be missed, even by the blind.

After his mum dropped him off at school, he _strutted_ in, through the hallways, and into the cafeteria, where he knew he would find Roxas. There were ten minutes before the bell would call the students into their homerooms; he had time.

He saw the blond sitting at a table in the center row. His gray backpack was on the table, and Roxas was fiddling with his ipod. Hayner was nowhere in sight. Axel went forth to what he surely hoped was his destiny. He stood beside the blond for a moment before Roxas noticed him. Roxas gaped up at him, too startled by his best friend's costume to turn tail and flee. The glow of his ipod faded, as if even _it_ was stunned.

"Axel, did you totally outfit yourself with western-style gear?" Roxas asked. He then recalled Kairi's text message.

"I have assless chaps, too," Axel said in a very serious tone, staring down at the blond with unnervingly wide eyes.

Roxas didn't know what to say about this. So he just waited for whatever the redhead was going to say—and he knew he was going to say something, because he had that expression on his face like there was a large, hairy caterpillar in his mouth that he desperately wanted to spit out.

_**"LEAVE THE HANDBAG!" **_he wailed, leaping onto Roxas. "Come to the dark side—I don't have cookies, but I can make some!"

"You _burn_ things!" the blond screeched.

"A little burnt taste never hurt nobody!"

"Stop quoting freshman summer reading books!"

"Then just leave the god forsaken handbag!"

"I am _**not**_ dating Hayner's _handbag!!" _Roxas roared, trying to kick Axel off, who was clinging to his knees.

"It has mind control powers," the redhead sobbed against his best friend's thighs.

Roxas tried desperately to extricate himself from the redhead's grip—he inched this way, and stumbled that way. He only succeeded in dragging Axel across the cafeteria floor.

Hayner was not pleased at the sight. He glowered, clenched his fists, gritted his teeth, and whatnot else, and stomped over the freak harassing his boyfriend.

"Hey, Cowboy," he snarled, "you know that sunset you're supposed to ride off into? There's a cement one outside, go find it."

Perceiving what was, at that moment, his greatest enemy, Axel composed himself, got up, dusted himself off, and wore a glare like it was vogue. He smirked when Roxas didn't pull away from him. If Hayner's deepened scowl was any clue, he noticed, too.

"Just remember, little lady," Axel said in a confidential tone with a tip of his cowboy hat to Roxas. "The _handbag."_

Axel then went off on his merry way.

As the two blonds watched Axel leave, Hayner shouted after him, "If you run fast enough, you'll make up for your dead horse!"

Axel didn't turn around—hell, Axel didn't seem to even hear him. But Hayner's last comment hit a nerve in Roxas. Hayner's tone was that of complete ridicule; to him, Axel was scum because he was so freaking weird, and even worse because Axel couldn't help it. Roxas was used to being the one to accept Axel, to _offer _him acceptance, which was something few people _his age_ got, and which even fewer people _like him_ ever got in their entire lives.

Since hearing about Axel's sexual attraction to him and realizing that Axel's attachment to him probably went far past the groin, Roxas felt threatened and pressured. He felt pressured because Axel hadn't ever expected much if anything from him, but now the blond feared he was responsible for someone else's happiness, for the wholeness of a besotted heart. That was something he wasn't sure he could do. Roxas could try to be what Axel needed of him, but he wasn't sure that he actually wanted to. And Roxas felt threatened because he could only think of one disastrous end result of trying: the loss of a friendship built on the sorely needed safety and trust for which they depended on each other.

The thought of losing that scared him. And as much as he wanted to avoid any thought of Axel for the time being, he let himself feel fiercely protective of Axel. At that moment, he wanted to beat Hayner to a fucking pulp.

_'Daydreaming, been sitting, the corner cafe  
And I'm left in bits, recovered tectonic, trembling—  
You get me every time.'  
_  
(XXX)

Roxas had a few more unfortunate run ins with Axel, who was now insisting upon calling him "little lady." He was confronted by Sora and Riku during lunch.

"Okay, what's the deal? What did you do?" Sora asked, apparently unnerved, which was rare for him. He glanced around for any sign of the new "cowboy on campus."

Roxas winced. _"I_ didn't do anything to make him do this, I didn't even give his wok-fried brain the idea."

Riku and Sora were still staring at him, expecting _his_ explanation. Like it was _his_ fault.

The blond sighed. "He's apparently developed a love for all things cowboy, especially the naked one in New York," he said and ran his hands through his hair. "He's not _naked _because his mom's got a taser and she won't let him out of the house naked."

"Has she used it on him?" Riku asked, bug-eyed.

"Did you see his hair today?"

_**"Wow,"**_they chimed in unison.

"Yeah, that woman's a maniac."

(XXX)

Mr. Leftinoff, Kairi and Axel's teacher for Intro to Film, was absent that day, so they had a free during his class. The two redheads sauntered out to the old, chained carousel in the back of the school. It was originally built in the eighteen hundreds—it was pretty plain in style, and there were simple benches instead of fantastically painted horses, unicorns, or mermaids. Kingdom High School was built on land that once belonged to a relatively wealthy Victorian family. A fire destroyed the mansion, so the school board was not guilty of destroying history when they chose to build a public high school here. They opted to leave the carousel, to humor the history teachers.

Kairi and Axel had a to-do list. Kairi erased the name "Roxas" from Axel's list and told him to stay focused.

"I taught you a lot of stuff on Saturday about working backstage—props, some tech, helping out the cast, costumes, make up, where things are, and lights and stuff, although Fuu would probably be better for teaching you about lights. I'm not totally sure what we're going to do yet. Er, you signed up to help out with the play, right?"

Axel nodded. He listened while he picked at the peeling paint on his carousel seat.

"Mrs. Fay had to 'bright' idea to have someone breathe fire during the 'festive' scenes," Kairi said snidely. Axel perked up at the mention of fire.

"Is a cast member going to do it or what?" he asked, sounding excited. His eyes were wide and bright and already a happy grin was spreading over his face.

Kairi smiled. "Well, there are liability issues. She said that the person to do it would, first off, have to have experience. If she hires a professional, that'll cost us a bundle that we don't have. So if it's a student, the kid's parents are going to have to sign forms to cover the school's ass, should the kid or other students get hurt. You good with fire?"

"I like fire!" he said enthusiastically.

"But have you done fire breathing, fake or real, before?" she asked, though she somehow doubted that Axel _hadn't _nearly killed himself with fire before.

"I like fire!!!"

Kairi felt conflicted about this—she was hopeful, amused, and excited, yet now she had a sinking feeling. She wondered if she was willing to be partially or wholly responsible for the trauma of potential burn victims. She had visions of a theater being consumed by ravenous flames—victims with third degree burns, survivors with huge scars and scarred lungs, even damaged limbs, and charred corpses.

Kairi shrugged it off. The human species was having a population problem, anyway. The rest of the ecosystem would be grateful for the gesture, no matter how small.

"Let's brainstorm. What else could we do? Itching powder in the codpieces and tights?? I hope I can persuade Fuu to help us out again…"

Unfortunately, they didn't make a great deal of progress that day. They did, however, eventually get onto the topic of Roxas. Kairi tiptoed through the tulips, or around the issue since she didn't have much love for flowers, and asked seemingly inconsequential things like, "Does Roxas have any interest in theater?"

At the mention of the blond, Axel's expression fell. Kairi's play scheme was apparently a welcome distraction.

"I don't know. And I don't think he'd have anything to do with it if he had to work near me," he said sadly. He fingered the stitching on his trousers; there was an area of slight fraying—he wondered how soon it would fall apart.

Kairi's lavender eyes glinted as she watched him closely. She must have seen something worth having, and saw that it could soon be within her grasp.

The play _was,_ after all, _Romeo and Juliet._ She wanted to see how convincing the actors could be.

(XXX)

Now that it wasn't Monday anymore, the trauma Roxas experienced concerning the new "Naked" Cowboy seemed rather unimpressive. Really, Axel's recent interest in being a cowboy wasn't too remarkable, considering his history of eccentric displays. He was still hassling Roxas, who was still trying to avoid the redhead.

On Tuesday after school, Roxas spent a bit more time with Hayner, hoping that his company would provide a comforting distraction. He was disappointed. Hayner was frazzled and jealous due to Axel's increasingly hostile behavior toward him and the redhead's advances on Roxas. He kept hissing about how Axel _was so god damn weird_, how he _belonged in an asylum_, and bashing the parents who'd raised him. And what put off Roxas even more was watching Hayner hug and pet _his freaking metallic purple handbag_ like one of those useless, yippy dogs that dippy celebrities carried around like accessories. Roxas was tempted to ask Hayner if he'd named his handbag "Fluffy."

He didn't.

On Wednesday, Roxas hung out with Riku, Sora, and Kairi. Kairi's quirks put him at ease; she reminded Roxas of the friendship with Axel before the strain of knowing about _feelings_. Roxas easily fell into stride with Sora—their smiles were similar to each other and they shared other mannerisms. The blond liked counting the details that made people ask them if they were twins. Riku was the same old—cool, steady, and always under the expectant gazes of his friends, awaiting the next momentary brain failure.

There were only two differences between hanging out with them now and before. First, Roxas had the feeling that they all knew that what was going on with Axel wasn't inconsequential. And second, Roxas could tell that Riku was fast coming to realize that his "liking" Sora was a hell of a lot more than that. Even more than the "okay, maybe a lot more" than Riku thought.

Riku was getting antsy. Cool and composed as he seemed, he betrayed himself by his fidgeting with his black gloves and rubbing his fingers together nervously when Sora gave him a look lasting over two seconds. His aquamarine eyes followed Sora with an attentiveness that had a little pain at its core.

It was strangely amusing and annoying to watch someone fall in love with their best friend. If Roxas could tell, then Kairi could definitely tell, and Sora wasn't an oblivious dip, so he either hadn't bothered to think about it or was ignoring the signs. Roxas hoped it would end well.

Roxas' thoughtful mood was broken when Kairi whispered teasingly in his ear, _"'A rose by any other name would smell as sweet!'"_

(XXX)

By the time Thursday came around the mountain, Axel had succeeded in making Roxas avoid him completely. As in, he'd immediately leave the room when he saw Axel, unless it was a class. But from what he'd heard, Hayner wasn't faring well in Roxas' affections, either.

Axel slumped onto the floor in a dim, back end nook of the school library. It was his free—no teacher could tell him where to go and he didn't want to be seen by anyone who cared where he went. He threw his backpack onto the floor beside him and let out a long breath. He was tired of this, he didn't _like_ seeing Roxas unhappy but he couldn't make himself stop. He couldn't watch him go with Hayner anymore. Why was he dating Hayner anyway? He never seemed too keen on him, before dating him or now—was it just the sex?

…Who was on top more often…?

Then Axel's jealousy kicked into gear and he started fuming at the mental image—god _damn _it, _god_ damn _it!_ He snarled. He tried to think of something else, like his nice new hat that _really_ didn't deserve to be torn to pieces, especially since it cost fifty bucks and… Axel got a hold of himself—_ooh!_—and released the leather cowboy hat from his death grip.

If that hat had a voice box and a mouth, it would have sobbed for joy.

Axel willed his rage to fade into little embers. He hugged his knees and rested his chin on them. He missed Roxas, _fuck,_ he did. He wished he had the power to stop this—_feeling_ like this about Roxas. He wished he could just evict whatever emotion that'd holed up in his heart and make room for something possible. He wished he could feel this way for someone else.

But then there _was _no one else. He guessed that the reason he and Roxas were such good friends was because they seemed to be the only ones they knew who could offer each other what they needed. Roxas needed someone who didn't judge him for anything he liked, did, desired, or wanted to do, no matter what those things were. Axel called Roxas a douche for liking "Carameldansen," but Roxas knew he didn't _mean _it; Axel didn't think _anything_ of it. It was just one thing that Roxas liked, that's all—fact with no opinion attached. Axel was the only one of their friends who didn't give a second negative thought to Roxas' car, or the fact that the blond really _liked _his somewhat freaky Deathmobile.

And Axel was…an undeniable freak. That label would no doubt follow him for the rest of his life, and he needed someone who didn't give a damn and wouldn't back off when he inevitably did something strange. Roxas was sometimes scared or shocked by Axel's behavior, but that was understandable—remember that gear shift? But the blond never thought Axel was weird. Roxas sometimes called Axel a freak in conversation, but Axel knew Roxas didn't _really_ think he was a freak. Roxas thought he was off-kilter, definitely, and potentially dangerous, but not bad and not worth ostracizing. Despite being a major dip, Roxas seemed to believe that his honesty, loyalty, and occasional displays of unclouded above average intellect made up for that. And Roxas reminded people of that, when they cared to listen.

Even when Axel's brain backfired, Roxas was usually the first person to tell him not to worry what everyone gaping at him thought. Though it didn't seem like it then, he _had_ a brain; no worries.**  
****  
**And Axel was the only one of Roxas' friends who would immediately and whole-heartedly join in when Roxas started quoting characters from famous novels. Like Fagin, a Jewish leader of a small crime ring in Victorian Era England from Charles Dickens' _Oliver Twist. _

Axel, who didn't read classics, learned from Roxas about Fagin and Fagin's pet raven, whom he called Ezekiel.

_Roxas was sitting next to Axel on the steps to the school's main entrance. The sun was high in the sky. They were waiting for their ride home and felt pretty cool together in their matching black coats. They felt pretty devious right then—like, in another life, they would have made awesome, elusive crime partners. They would have been perfect: they would've balanced each other out, making up for each other's weaknesses and enhancing their strengths. They would have been the kind of pair most people only read about—inseparable, inexorable, like rot on a frigging log._

Axel caught Roxas' gaze and his green eyes lit up with recognition. It was _**that **__look; Axel knew Roxas' looks, especially that one. Roxas hunched over and rubbed his hands together like a seedy lowlife._

He growled in his huskiest accent, "Never trust ze goyim, Ezekiel."

Beside him, Axel cawed like a crow. It was disturbingly authentic.****

Didn't that mean anything anymore? Did Roxas honestly forget all that?

Regardless of how Roxas currently felt, Axel knew that they worked together like peanut butter and jelly in the cruel, moisture-robbing cage of whole wheat bread that was life. And they worked because one was oversweet and one was too thick and rich. They needed each other to be balanced—they couldn't go anywhere in life alone.

Together, they were delicious—high in fat, sugar, and calories, but still delicious. And totally awesome, except when on a diet.

(XXX)****

Riku was pretty bad with names, including those of his teammates, especially when he didn't usually talk to them outside of games and practice. Currently, he was practicing with _Guy with the Orange Cowlick_ who said "ya?" a lot, and _Mama's Boy _whose dirty blond spiky hair was the exact opposite of his fashion sense. Riku's head wasn't in the practice but on Sora's valentine, which he'd framed on the nightstand beside his head; now the valentine looked even more pissed, if that was possible. The rest of the team was split up, some running laps, stretching, and calling out to the few girls who came by to watch them. ****

One of the girls trooping out to watch from the edge of the soccer field was—if Riku's eyesight wasn't failing him—Namine. Upon recognizing her, all the happy, gushy, stupid thoughts fluttering around that disgruntled valentine crash landed in flames; Riku _hated _Namine. She'd never intended to harm him, but Riku still wasn't ready to forgive her for the week of trauma after she had sex with Sora in freshman year. The thought of them together made Riku's heart pounded furiously in his chest. He picked up speed; he was running like a freight train with other teammates around the soccer field—if he didn't channel his rage into some other physical activity, he was going to throttle that blond bint.

To elaborate: in freshman year, there was a confused, tense, and traumatic week during which Sora _liked _Namine, had sex with her, and thought he was straight. This had the effect of something like an adolescent mid-life crisis for Riku, who felt as though his whole life was lost. In hindsight, that should have given him a clue about his _feelings _regarding Sora. But Riku thanked the cosmic forces that Sora's brief "revelation" turned out to be a brief mix up in hormones.

…Still, Riku swore to God: before he died, he'd give Namine gonorrhea. At the very least.**  
**_  
_Riku turned his thoughts to the weekend ahead. Stupid, warm, fluttery feelings made him trip and fall flat on his face. Or maybe it was the fact that he wasn't looking where he where he was going and needed something to blame. Who could tell?

(XXX)

Meanwhile, Sora was contemplating suicide.

Hayner's voice came burbling out of his cell phone, as it had been for the past half hour. Sora diagnosed himself with clinical depression.

Sora was innocently finishing his homework when he received a call from an unknown number. He answered it—his first mistake—and said "yes" when the caller asked if this was Sora—his second mistake. And then he had a whining Hayner bothering him about "quality time" with Roxas, that "flaming idiot" after "his man" and how Hayner honestly thought he and Roxas were like Lady and the Tramp.

Sora distracted himself by looking for something he could use to kill himself.

He was interrupted when his phone buzzed in his hand. He glanced at the screen—Riku was calling him.

"Sorry, Hayner, one sec. Riku's calling," he said calmly and switched to the incoming call. "Ohmygawd, Riku, save me! Hayner called me and he's talking to me about Roxas and his _god damn handbag,_ and now I _believe _what Axel says about him being a lesbian."

"Well, why don't you just…hang up?" Riku suggested sarcastically.

"I think I'm a masochist."

"Er…_kinky,"_ Riku said with an enthusiasm that he really didn't feel. "Shut him up soon, okay? Do you still have your PS2 or did your mom take it away again? My dad borrowed mine."

"Yeah, I still have mine. That's a shame about yours."

"Yeah, the next time I see it, it's going to be in a casket."

"We'll have a prayer service when you get it back. I'll get back to you in a bit," Sora said. He girded his loins, clenched his teeth, and went back to Hayner. Hayner was sniffing sadly. _Eeeeurrgh._

He let Hayner whine on a bit about Roxas and having a family and Roxas Junior and…what?

"Who is Roxas Junior?" he asked, terrified that Hayner really was a woman. Or had a few extra reproductive organs. And Roxas hadn't noticed.

"My handbag," Hayner said, sniffing sadly.

"You named your handbag?" Sora asked, feeling relieved. How did you give a man, er, a male lesbian…how did you give _a Hayner _an abortion?

"Yeah. Don't tell Roxas, please. We're gonna get married one day."

_Suuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuure. No one likes you, no one likes you, not even your freaking handbag, you flaming douche! If you ever marry Roxas, he'll be in a coma the entire time and you'll be wearing a fifties dress every day._

"Please don't tell him!" Hayner begged, but Sora didn't hear him. The cell phone lay abandoned on the kitchen table; Sora had gone to find noose.

(XXX)

Your chapter four. Urgh. Hayner is so useless. XD I hope you enjoyed chapter four, because I'm exhausted. Thanks for reading, and thank you in advance for any reviews you guys choose to send me.

Titles and bands:__

"Daydreaming, been sitting, the corner café / And I'm left in bits, recovered tectonic, trembling— / You get me every time."_**—**_**"Goodnight and Go" by **_**Imogen Heap.**_**Speak for Yourself album.**__

"The good old days, the honest man" **–"Read My Mind" by **_**The Killers. **_**Sam's Town album.**

"_On the corner of main street, / Just tryin' to keep it in line. / You say you wanna move on and / You say I'm falling behind— / Can you read my mind?"_** –"When You Were Young" by **_**The Killers. **_**Sam's Town album.**


	5. The highway skyline

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Kingdom Hearts, or any characters, places, or items appearing in the Kingdom Hearts game series. I do not own any lyrics found in this fic. If lyrics are used in any chapter, I will cite the artist to whom they belong at the end of the chapter. I do not own titles of books or characters from books mentioned in this fic. I do not receive payment for the use of any of these materials.****

Author's Note: I've been told by a few readers that I've been able to throw some angst in here without making it depressing—thank you. But if I was able to give this fic a _third _genre, the third would be angst. The generally happy mood is about to change. And I'm going to pretend that I didn't cry a little bit when I wrote this chapter.****

Thank you, xxBeautifulxxNightmarexx, insanecat6, and scriptor-scriptorum for your reviews.

xxBeautifulxxNightmarexx: you know what I like? How you always tell me something that you like about the chapter. XD It gives me a clue as to what worked out well.

Insanecat6: thank you for such a thoughtful review. It made me very happy! And to answer your question about whether Roxas strangles Hayner when he breaks up with him: Roxas is going to leave him in a ditch somewhere. And you think I'm kidding. Have a spoiler. XD

scriptor-scriptorum: did you like it? XD I didn't expect that you'd trot over to the KH fandom just to read my story. By the way: THIS FIC IS WHAT'S KEEPING ME FROM WRITING MY LABYRINTH FIC. Or I'm just using his fic to _avoid_ writing my Labyrinth fic.

**Rating change: **this fic is now rated **M** for some sexual situations and continued use of crude language.

**  
**Enjoy. Pleasant dreams: finally, some action! How long have you guys been waiting for this?! How long have _**I **_been waiting for this??!?!

**Son of the Moon**

_Chapter five: 'The highway skyline'_

~*~

'_And sometimes you close your eyes  
And see the place where you used to live  
When you were young.'_

-The Killers, "When You Were Young"

~*~  


It was Friday, the end of third period. Sora was trotting off to the library to work on his anatomical sketches for his drawing class—yes, it was actually an _assignment_. He had fifteen sketches to make of male and female figures in various poses listed on his assignment sheet. He was really glad that he had an assignment like drawing he could get a head start on, because he forgot to take his ADD medication that morning. He wasn't incapable of doing homework without his meds, but when he was off them and tried to outline sections in his history book or write papers, it was difficult. Really difficult. Without his medication, he couldn't really settle into something that took significant analysis and organization—he got antsy, he kept getting up, walking around, toying with the things around him, and daydreaming.

But drawing—_that _was easier. It also calmed him down a bit, and made it a little easier to concentrate on more analytical assignments. Too bad it didn't help even half as much as his bloody medication.

Sora plunked down in a plush seat in the library and pulled out his sketchpad, his lucky red mechanical pencil—because wooden pencils were annoying and definitely not Wonder Bread's style—and his favorite eraser. He got his ipod and headphones out of his bag and started listening to DJ OZMA, because the brunet was currently on a j-pop binge. He tried not to groove _too_ much.

He was as happy and comfortable as a well-insulated slice of Wonder Bread could be, and just about as cute, because the sight of a slice of happy Wonder Bread grooving and bopping was one thing without which a person's life was incomplete. It was just that amazing. It was common knowledge, listed in books like "Crap to do Before You Kick It" and everything.

He saw Kairi on her way out of the library and waved at her. She came over to his table and looked at his sketches idly.

"You have stuff to do this period, I see," she said, tapping the tabletop with her knuckles. Sora paused his music, just when DJ OZMA was trying to sing in English, and nodded.

"I forgot to take my meds today," he said, scratching his head.

"So no long philosophical discussions today?" the redhead asked, smirking. Sora wrinkled his nose, sniffed, and generally made a show of have a cold metal spoon up his bum.

"I can still discuss things!! Just…the discussions will be much shorter. Here's one we can do: the topic is 'where the hell are my brown pants?!' That's also my argument. Your rebuttal should be, 'Gee, Sora, I dunno. _You're _the one that threw them somewhere in Riku's house!'"

"That's not how you have a discussion, that's not even how you properly debate," Kairi said, laughing. "You never found them?"

_"Jah," _he said in his best Swedish accent. Or Hollandish. He forgot the name of their language.

"Riku never found 'em?"

"That's what he says. I trust him. What would he want with my pants, anyway?"

If Kairi hadn't a clue about what had happened to Sora's pants before, she sure as hell knew _now. _But she wasn't going to inform Sora of Riku's misdeeds; she felt that it needed to come from Riku. Because, really, something as personal as _'Hi, I stole your pants 'cause I really, really, really, really, really like you and I hope you aren't offended even though that's kind of creepy and stalkerish, and I framed the meaningless valentine you gave me on my bedside table'_ had to come from the idiot who did it.

"How's the sleepover plan with Riku? You guys going to hang around town at some point?"

"Yeah. I'll call you."

"Right, so I'm going to bunk off for my free with Saix. We might go dumpster diving," she said, winked at him, and left the library.

Sora returned to DJ OZMA.

"No, Spiderman, I do _not _want your love now," he replied brightly to the lyrics and continued sketching.

(XXX)

Saix trooped by the back of the school to meet Kairi. They kissed, cuddled briefly, and walked hand in hand through the woods behind the school and the houses in the area. They visited the garbage cans of various residences, taking more time with the ones they knew to have more interesting refuse, but found little that day. They wound up at the nearby park. No one was around, so they chose to stay. Saix pushed Kairi on the swings and generally looked happier in her company than he did, er, during most of the rest of his life.

Saix liked Kairi, a lot. And for various reasons. First, he had a thing for redheads, except for Axel. Second, she was cool in an amusing, mentally stimulating, slightly psycho way, which suited Saix just fine. Third—never mind, because no one _cared_ about how pretty he thought she was. And fourth, because Saix was required by court order to attend anger management meetings and Kairi calmed him down. _A lot._ He had a history of anger-related issues. Saix was grateful for how she made it easier to control his temper.

Saix tried to repay her in small ways for the effect she had on him. Like giving her more affection than was his natural tendency—he wasn't a gushy, flowery, overly romantic guy, but he made it a point to keep the cheek, hand, and forehead kisses coming. He nuzzled her and embraced her, and not just so she could be aware of the state of his groin.

He was also trying to help her figure out what to do about the school play and the Axel-Roxas fiasco.

"Axel called me, wanting advice the other day," Saix said, watching the highlights in Kairi's hair move as she swung back and forth on the swing. "I suggested food. Roxas always seemed a bit like a squirrel to me."

Kairi snickered. "Axel took your advice halfway, and bought sugar cubes instead. I suppose that, now that he's the new "Naked Cowboy," he thinks of Roxas as a horse."

Saix's eyes widened, evidently disturbed. He was comparing the different nature of the relationship between a real cowboy and his horse and Cowboy Axel and his "horse." Axel was a bit nutty. If he was in the mindset to be a cowboy and regarded Roxas as his horse…well, sooner or later, Axel would be committing _pseudo_-bestiality with said horse. Saix shuddered.

As much as he didn't want to get near that conversation or topic with a ten-foot pole, Saix would have to have a little talk with Axel.

"Right, so, the play," he said, swiftly changing the subject. Kairi groaned sadly.

"I can't think of much this time around! I just keep thinking about the money the school has for the theater productions and this stupid thing between Axel and Roxas."

The mention of money and Axel and Roxas' problem gave the blue-haired male an idea.

"Kai," he said, slowing the motion of the swing. "You've helped out the director of school play with the finances before. Mrs. Fay trusts you—and though that makes either her really dumb or you exceptionally brilliant and suave, that's beside the point. You've _handled_ the checks and things _before."_

Kairi dug her feet into the woodchips on the playground and turned to look at her boyfriend. Her gaze was piercing; she was looking at him like he was a roller coaster that gave her all the spark in the world. She got it. She winked and smirked at Saix, called him a "clever boy" and he returned to his swing-pushing duties.

Saix grinned to himself, amused and pleased with himself. He let himself enjoy the warmth of Kairi's slender back when he pushed her higher on the swing.

The petite redhead broke the silence by asking, "Do you think we could manage to have sex on this swing?"

Saix blinked, tried to figure out the physics of it, and came up with a rather bleak, confused picture. It sounded painful, but then he was a guy, so a unique sexual escapade was always considered. His libido and his frontal lobe were running a race, his libido in the lead, but just then his frontal lobe caught up. He realized that he couldn't afford something else on his record, like public indecency in a children's play area.

Saix was stuck. Which brain to use? The one in his head or the one in his…smaller head?

As always, he was saved from internal destruction of the ever-threatening war between the below-waist brain and his real brain by his female partner.

"It's okay. We'll just engineer a virus that kills children under the age of twelve. Then we can try it on a swing," she said.

Saix felt relieved; suddenly, the future seemed much, much brighter.

(XXX)

Sora let Axel borrow his ipod that day, hoping it would help keep him out of trouble. And by trouble, he meant keep Axel from chasing Roxas around the school, shouting, "WHAT DOES HE HAVE THAT I DON'T, YOU OVER-GELED CREAM PUFF?!" and pelting him with sugar cubes again. Sora was amused by this, and not too worried for Roxas' safety. To Sora, it was just young love.

Sora had a skewed vision of the "innocent romance of youthful sweethearts." His vision lacked opinions on the concepts of obnoxious suitors and unwilling recipients of said suitor's overtures. Maybe Axel should dress up like a bird and build Roxas a house out of sticks and decorate it with blue, shiny things. Sora got that idea from a documentary on the mating rituals of some bird that actually built a nest out of reeds and did the interior decoration to attract a mate.

The end of the school day rolled around quickly enough, and Sora met Riku in the parking lot. Sora grinned, Riku grinned back, they _didn't _realize that they were each other's one true love, and the world didn't end. Sora made sure Riku had all the stuff he needed—Sora was prepared for his best friend's brain failures—then they got into Sora's car and left the PCTBA—the 'Public Center for the Torture and Boredom of Adolescents.'

When Sora and Riku got to Sora's house, they were ready to let the good times roll, but Sora's parents put their parental feet down with firm hands and made them finish their homework first. Sora was able to get at his short-acting afternoon medication, so now he had an easier time concentrating on schoolwork. It was dull, and it was drudgery, but nothing makes happiness and play as good as the misery of homework.

Afterward, Riku and Sora were pent up and antsy, so they dug around in Sora's basement to find the wooden swords with which they used to spar. Both males were a bit rusty at it—for the past year or so, Sora had been busy with other things, in part because Riku's homework and soccer practice took a considerable amount of his time after school. Riku, however, was still stronger and faster; his muscles from soccer practice made up for the lack of recent practice. But he was always better at this than Sora, anyway. But no one's pride was damaged, and a friendly, competitive spirit rose up between them. They sparred in Sora's back yard, towards the back of the property, close to the forest's edge. They dodged and leaped and swung and parried as best they could. Riku won the first and second round, but Sora, surprisingly, came out in the end and won the third and final round. They lay down on the soft grass, tired, gasping, happy, and full of endorphins and memories.

Sora recovered first, felt devious, and pounced on Riku. They tussled for a few minutes—Riku's slower recovery weakened him somewhat, but he just managed to pin Sora underneath him. Then they stopped. They rested, or Sora rested, while the silver-haired male supported part of his weight on his hands on either side of Sora's head. Riku panted, looking down at him, realizing that _Sora was underneath him. _He felt a tingly, shivery sensation he imagined like a flock of birds erupting into the air after someone fires a shot.

Riku was happy. He smiled through the pleasant memories of childhood. He remembered how they used to wrestle and Riku, back then, would almost always win. Looking back, he realized then how fricking happy he was whenever he got Sora in a good hold and kept him there, pretending he was just doing it because he liked taunting Sora. But years ago, even before they hit puberty, Riku had been dimly aware that he liked wrestling with Sora for a pleasure _other_ than victory and taunting rights.

The elder male's breathing quieted as he looked down at Sora. Sora was staring up at him with his big, blue eyes, which Riku thought were so pretty while the rest of him was handsome. Sora was a little boyish-looking in the face, though, which made him cute—er, adorable. So fricking…okay, "adorable" wasn't any better.

Riku wanted to kiss Sora right then, and for a second there, he thought he was going to lose control and actually do it. His lips parted, he felt like he was falling, he felt like his body was leaning in of its own accord, but then it stopped. A mixture of relief and disappointment blossomed in his body.

He fell onto Sora and hugged him. Sora, startled, hugged him back, but after a few wordless moments of _okay-this-wasn't-expected_, he poked him in the side.

"Lol, Riku," he said, pronouncing every letter as was his wont. "You okay, man?" There was a smile tinting his words to a warm _don't-worry-I-don't-actually-think-this-is-weird_ tone. There was laughter in his voice but Riku regretfully decided he'd better get off—_o rly?_

They grabbed their weapons and trudged back inside, neither of them thinking about how anyone who heard about this would snicker at the various interpretations of the words 'weapons' and 'inside' after a scene like that.

They got into the house just in time so Sora's dad didn't have to start hollering for them to come for dinner. Sora's dad was a laid back guy who had straight, brown hair, olive-colored skin, and pierced ears. He was a cool dude in Riku's book—yes, a 'cool dude'—who played base in his free time with some of his friends in a local jazz band. He allowed people he liked to call him _"Rob,"_ although Sora tended to call him _"Brillopad"_ because Sora was_"Creative."_

Sora's mom was a slender woman with auburn hair and small features. She kept her hair in a pixie cut vaguely reminiscent of Sora's hairstyle, and it worked on her because she had a sweet face that looked younger than she really was. She liked to sketch and paint when she had the time, and she was the one who inspired little, kiddie Sora to start drawing.

Sora's mom, Gina, was a psychologist and Rob was, kind of amusingly, a massage therapist.

Rob did not give happy endings.

…Except to his wife.

Anyway. The meal was a basic dinner of hamburgers with toppings and salad. Sora was the kind of not really health-conscious person who cared enough about his health to shovel vegetables into his mouth at rapid speed so he wouldn't have to taste the crap. And then this meant that he didn't care much because, hell, this was easy.

Riku took vegetables because he _kind of_ wanted to avoid rectal cancer. Because rectal cancer was, for anyone but especially for a gay guy, kind of _awkward. _

Riku made small-talk with the parents, and everything was going nicely until Sora brought up the much loved tale of Riku's sixteenth birthday party at the Japanese restaurant. Remember that? It was a local favorite story. Along with all the other episodes.

The silver-haired male got flustered enough to verbally lash out, but his brain took that moment, of all times, to go on a vacation again. For one minute. To Ireland. Riku's body was in America; his brain took a seven-hour flight to go to Ireland just to get off, wait _one sodding minute_, and hop back on the next flight back to America.

And just in time for Riku to say something stupid when he needed to prove his intelligence.

_**"What kind of slugs does your face fuck?!"**_Riku yelled angrily at Sora. Then his expression changed dramatically as realization of what he just said hit him.__

Good comeback, Riku, nice job. Applause, please, the lad needed it. Or maybe he just needed everyone to stop laughing at him; Gina almost fell out of her chair. Twice.

Riku cried a little onto his hamburger.

After dinner, Riku's Link beat Sora's Princess Zelda quite viciously at Super Smash Brothers Brawl. Sora didn't complain, because he knew his best friend was still steaming, and Sora was still snickering. Riku angrily continued with the video game as long as Sora remained amused at the tale over dinner of Riku's brain failures. They were in front of that television screen until two in the morning.

By that time, Sora was pretty tired. He threw down the controller, stood up, stretched, scratched himself in various places, and announced that he was a "sleepin' bun." Riku turned off the PS2 and followed Sora into the bathroom where they washed up, brushed teeth, and brushed hair. Or Riku brushed his hair, then on a whim tried to brush _Sora's_ hair, just to see how it would look.

It looked poofy.

It made Riku smile and giggle—in a totally reflexive, not-feminine way—and snort. Sora looked about as disgruntled as his valentine, which made it even better.

Sora reshaped his spikes—no gel at all, what was with those hair genes? He then trotted into the bedroom and quickly changed before Riku came in—oh_ poo_.Well, Riku got an eyeful anyway, because Sora's night clothes consisted of a pair of pajama pants and…er, that's it. He threw himself onto the bed which was just a mattress with pillows, sheets, and covers in the middle of his bedroom floor, and Riku exchanged his jeans for pajama pants and a t-shirt before following him.

Riku wished he was following him not just to sleep in the same physical space, but to sleeping _together._ Even if it wasn't sex, because Riku had _**nothing **_against sex with Sora because, well, of the obvious. But he wished for _things_: he wanted to be able to touch and kiss and cuddle and…well, that last verb was a little embarrassing.

He wished he could take his shirt off, too, but now that it was off and Sora's was also off—and it was November—that would be a bit odd. The only way he'd be able to sleep beside Sora shirtless is if Riku had taken off his shirt _first,_ and then it would have been partially in the hope to allure Sora to take off his shirt, too. And stuff. And, um, lips, and Sora's nice smell, and cute, er, not _that_ word, and, uh, _stop while you're ahead, Riku._

Riku wasn't embarrassed by his haphazard train of thought because he knew, without a doubt, that no one could read his mind.

…

Ha ha.

Riku crawled onto the mattress and laid beside Sora, facing Sora's back. There was a foot or so of mattress between them. Riku wanted to close that distance, but he was apprehensive. But the brunet was right there, and Riku's chest felt funny, like there was a giant butterfly in each of his lungs, beating their soft wings, dusting powder on his inner walls. It tickled, it tingled, and it hurt a little bit because Riku _really_ wanted to pull Sora against him and for Sora to like it, want it, and want it to happen again the next day, and the day after that.

Riku pressed his face into the pillow and tried to close his eyes. He was able to—for a second. Sora's sigh roused him, and Riku raised himself a little on the mattress. Sora was right there…

Riku swallowed, slowly inched forward on the mattress, and waited there for a second. His best friend didn't seem to notice his movement. Riku tentatively raised his right hand reached out—he stopped just above Sora's arm. Riku felt like someone inside him was walking on the floorboards of a house being destroyed by a wrecking ball. He was shaking that much inside.

He rested his hand on Sora's arm. Sora turned his head to look at him over his shoulder, curious. But he said nothing; neither of them said anything. Riku looked him in the eye and hesitantly draped his arm lower across Sora's front.

Sora's eyes seemed to glow in the dark. There was no opinion there, no judgment, just a watchfulness that, if it had a sound, would ring out hauntingly like a metal key singing along a key ring in the night. Sora _didn't_ stop him. Riku stayed his hand, looking questioningly into Sora's eyes for some response, some forbiddance of this contact, but there was none. Sora's eyelids lowered a little, becoming calm, and the silver-haired male was encouraged.

Riku wrapped his right arm fully around Sora's front and pulled him so his back was flush against his muscled torso. Riku readjusted his position and buried his face against the curve of the brunet's neck. And Riku felt so relieved and tingly inside. He tried to be still, but his lips were pressed against Sora's naked skin, and even if this wasn't a kiss of any sort, this embrace was unquestionably more than friendly. It was lover's embrace, _and Sora didn't stop him._

Aquamarine eyes glanced up into the blue, and he saw that stopping him, pushing Riku off, was the last thing Sora was about to do. Sora smiled a little, sighed, closed his eyes, and nestled closer. Riku nearly gasped for some reason, maybe he was still in shock or something. But then he pulled Sora even closer, feeling like everything inside him was churning against everything else—it felt _good,_ it felt _tingly,_ it even tickled, and it also felt just a little bit like he was going to puke, but not really.

He could have kissed Sora then, but he didn't. He could have pulled his lips away from that naked skin and _really_ kissed it, or he could have turned Sora over and kissed him on the lips, pouring out all this mind-whirling _feeling, _but he didn't. He didn't kiss Sora because he really, really wanted to; maybe he could…_maybe _he could save that for a little longer.

Even though the tingly feelings inside never entirely ceased, Riku soon got to sleep. But before that happened, he flicked the head of his member to make it go down; he didn't want to be poking Sora in the back all night.

(XXX)**  
**  
After spending so many hours in classrooms, one forgot how bright the midday sun was.

Riku and Sora were on the Destiny Islands. They were walking side by side in their swim trunks. They passed the Secret Place, but then Sora stopped and turned back to look at it. He gazed at it longingly for a long time, such a long time that Riku became bold enough to touch Sora's arm; Riku wanted to _win_ _back_ Sora's attention. After a moment, the brunet turned around and grinned at him like a blissful child. But then his expression changed to that of awe, and he started looking at Riku like he was _made of __**stars**_—shooting stars, falling stars; things _meant_ for wish-making.

Riku, feeling scared, scrounging courage, cupped his best friend's face in his gloved hands and kissed him on the lips. And there was a burst of acidic vapor in his chest—but it was the good kind, the kind that breaks down every anxiety and frees the space for happiness and pleasure and sweet things like kisses. At that moment, Riku _felt _like shooting stars. He wrapped his arms tightly around Sora, and held the back of the brunet's head so he couldn't get away. Sora kissed him back, pushed closer, wrapped one arm around Riku's back and stroked his cheek absently as the center of his whole existence was stretched across that inch or so of lip against lip.

It was soft and good and—good like _anything_, good like neither of them knew what to do except turn one kiss into another and another, and it just kept getting _better_. It felt like tectonic plates were moving inside them, animated by bolts of electricity. Their hearts sped up; this was perfect, just perfect, and neither wanted this to _ever_ end.

They pushed closer. Riku deepened the kiss—he nibbled Sora's lower lip, and Sora moaned and that made Riku wild like drugs. A series of vicious sparks sprang from whatever wires were being so perfectly crossed inside of him, and each spark tore a pleasurable hole in his chest_. _Suddenly, there was no other option than to caress Sora's tongue with his own, touch more skin, press even closer, let their barriers down, and spill into each other. And Riku wanted it—he wanted it like no one's _bloody_ business.

It played out like a perfect drug trip from there: Sora returned every affection and need Riku displayed with all the fervor and passion of something wild. Sora became a definition expressed only in the heated, gasping sound of his _yes _and _please _and _you're the only one I want in the whole god damn world. _And then the sight of Sora beneath him—up and down, endlessly wide-eyed and panting and pulling Riku deeper—it was perfect. And it was so perfect that Riku wanted to give all of himself to Sora and just have him in return; that's all, no gifts, no huge gestures of precious metal bands to go on fingers or shiny four wheel drive. Just this, just Sora, and just…

But after, when they leaned on each other for support, exhausted on the sand, Sora was looking away from Riku; he was looking towards the Secret Place. And Riku was trying to kiss him: _just _trying to _kiss him,_ because he _liked_ kissing Sora, because he _liked_ that tenderness, and he _liked_ how it made him feel like someone was tickling him inside, because he was a _sap._ But no matter how Riku petted Sora or murmured to him or tried to turn his face towards him, Sora wouldn't look at him. He no longer seemed to notice Riku. That was bad, that was _pretty_ bad, and it was worse because Sora wasn't ignoringRiku; something in Sora was too steeped in something else tender and desperate _to be able_ to see him.

And this was the sad moment when Riku realized that it was a dream, and promptly woke up. He opened his eyes to find Sora's darkened room; Sora was sleeping quietly beside him on the mattress. Riku shifted and hissed—he had a massive hard on, and it wasn't about to skiv off any time soon. So he got up, quietly, gently, to keep from waking Sora, and locked himself in the bathroom to deal with it.

It felt good, he felt better, but he still wished he'd woken up sooner. The end of the dream had carved out a hollow place in his stomach. Only it didn't _feel_ hollow, because sadness, though it didn't have mass, had a hell of a lot of weight.

(XXX)  
_  
_That was chapter five. I hope you enjoyed the fluff and light angst. 8D We'll get some lyrics and more fluff in the next chapter.

Your reviews are always greatly appreciated. Thank you to all my loyal readers: you're such fluffy bunnies! I hope I'm keeping your attention! XD

Yes, I _did_ use "skiv" as a verb.

I hope the sexual scene in Riku's dream is inexplicit enough for . I didn't directly reference specific organs and it was graphic by my standards.

This fic _**will **_have lemons in future chapters, but I cannot post explicit versions for risk of incurring the wrath of the moderators/administration here. In the future, if a chapter has a lemon, I will have to edit it out/make it _**very **_inexplicit to avoid violating terms of service on this site. I will note when a chapter has a lemon, so you can go to my profile page—there, you'll find a link to the chapter with the lemon (AdultFanFiction site). You might want to read the whole chapter on AFF instead of skipping over right in the middle of things. Unenthusiastic, uncharacteristically "appropriate" request to cover my ass: I ask that you not read the explicit version if you are not over the legal age to view such material in your country.

Clarification: there is no explicit version of _**this**_ chapter.

Moving on. Oh my god, I've been listening to "Goodnight Moon" by Shivaree for, like, three days straight.

Axel's such a sweet twit. XD Pelting Roxas with sugar cubes and all. Poor baby, he's so confused. XD

I've started drawing sketches of scenes from this fic, and I now realize that I prefer the hairstyles of KH characters from KHI instead of KHII. I like long hair on guys and girls, but for some reason I prefer the shorter cut of Kairi's hair from KHI. Maybe because it was more distinctive; in KHII, Kairi looks quite average. I also prefer Riku's hairstyle/length from KHI to KHII, which is odd, because when it comes to hair length on a guy, I think the longer the better. And I really like Riku's black gloves and wristbands from KHI. Why did the designers throw those out for KHII?! WHY?!

Titles, bands, and references to Japanese men with blond fros:

"No, Spiderman, I do _not _want your love now" was a reference to the song **"Spiderman"** by _DJ OZMA._ Youtube it. I think it's from his "I LOVE PARTY PEOPLE" album.

The chapter title, "The highway skyline," is from a line of **"When You Were Young"** by _The Killers._ The header, as noted, is from the same song. **Sam's Town** album.  
_  
_****

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	6. Promise me he's not your world

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Kingdom Hearts, or any characters, places, or items appearing in the Kingdom Hearts game series. I do not own any lyrics found in this fic. If lyrics are used in any chapter, I will cite the artist to whom they belong at the end of the chapter. I do not own titles of books or characters from books mentioned in this fic. I do not receive payment for the use of any of these materials.****

Author's Note: Sorry about the delay. I was working on a Kingdom Hearts oneshot, which is now posted here. It's sweet, fluffy, and romantic. Eurgh. XD I'm very, very proud of it. It's set at a carnival in autumn, imbued with sentimental romance, and doused with fluff. Oh god, I can no longer call myself a man. XD It's called "Starlight, Starbright," 'cause the fic itself isn't drippy and gooey enough as it is. XD If you want something coo-worthy, hop on over and read it. Please leave a review.

The writing for this chapter didn't go as swimmingly as usual, which added to the unfortunate delay. ****

Thank you, insanecat6, xxBeautifulxxNightmarexx, and blue blade for your reviews. LURVE.

Insanecat6: XD You think I posted that thinking anyone would listen/care? But now can anyone report me for _encouraging_ anyone to break that law? No. XD I understand your disappointment at there being to Axel or Roxas-centered scenes in the last chapter, but I feel that a few chapters will _have_ to focus on _either_ Riku/Sora or Axel/Roxas. Thank you, so much, for your detailed review. I'm glad you took the time to tell me your thoughts, and I'm glad I didn't turn Saix into a one-dimensional/stereotypical character. It's surprisingly reassuring to know that I can write to defy trends. :P Oh, and relax. This chapter will have a considerable amount of Roxas-centeredness, and next chapter will be mainly Axel and Roxas.

xxBeautifulxxNightmarexx: Thanks for pointing out the finer points. XD The music video for "Spiderman" is certainly memorable—I've never seen so many men in spiderman speedos before. And you're not the first person to say that you don't know what to make of Kairi/Saix. XD

Blue blade: I won't mind you taking your sweet time if your reviews continue to be as thoughtful. ;3 I'm glad this is somewhat believable—well, I mean as far as Roxas not suddenly liking Axel out of the blue without explanation for previous sentiments or his sudden change of heart.  
__

A number of people on FF and AFF were disappointed by the lack of Roxas and Axel in the last chapter. You will be appeased very soon—chapter seven will be predominantly Roxas and Axel (I'm sure _**no one**_will complain _**then**_)_. _For now, we have a chapter that focuses on Riku/Sora and the Roxas' progression towards getting his head out of the sand/his bum.

Enjoy. Pleasant dreams.

**Son of the Moon**

_Chapter six: 'Promise me he's not your world'  
_

_'__Let me wrap myself around you,  
Let you show me how I see,  
And when you come back in from nowhere  
Do you ever think of me?'___

—The Killers, "My List"**  
**_  
~*~_

Riku drifted out of the dark sea of sleep on a peaceful wave. The soft shore upon which he woke was soft, smooth, and warm. Riku nuzzled his face into the pillow—_Sora's_ pillow—and took in the brunet's scent. Sora's smell wasn't of apples or cinnamon or any distinguishable ingredient, but a light, pleasant musk. Riku preferred it to all the stupid, flowery, overly sweet French perfumes in the world. He took another whiff, not thinking about the low level of creep in this action. He sighed contentedly.

He would have continued this had he not realized that if this was Sora's bed, that meant Sora was nearby—Riku reached over to Sora's side of the mattress, but his hand felt only cool, empty sheets. The silver-haired male opened his eyes to discover that he was alone in the room. His face fell, disappointed. He buried his face in the pillow for a minute, jerked his head up to peer at the clock on the floor by the bed, and reluctantly decided not to go back to sleep. It was only nine in the morning, but Riku knew that when his best friend woke up, neither of them had much chance of getting back to sleep. Sora's internal clock was an anti-sleeping-in fascist and Sora got bored, so he usually woke Riku up to entertain him. Riku, who admitted that he had a weakness for indulging Sora at his expense, never stopped him. That was why it was strange that Sora was awake but he hadn't woken Riku.

He cast his aquamarine eyes about the room. Other than a bureau, bookcase, and desk, the medium blue walls were mostly covered with college flyers, college statistics, editorial columns on various careers, job applications, SAT tutoring and dates, and scholarship forms. Sora's bulletin boards were overflowing with papers, and Riku knew the brunet hadn't put them there.

Riku got up, stretched, and wandered over to Sora's desk. There were more piles of papers, much like those devouring his walls. Riku peered around the piles and found that hidden behind them were childhood memories. Not memories, really, but objects he remembered finding with Sora when they were little: a few crystals from somewhere on the Destiny Islands, a reed fan Wakka showed him how to make, a very old wooden sword, seashells, and the remnants of what might have been a kite. Riku took the toy sword in hand and examined it: it was far smaller and more crudely shaped than the ones they'd used last night. This toy sword was probably Sora's first. Riku hadn't seen his first one in years.

Riku looked to the side of the desk. There were more things from their childhood in a pile on the floor, surrounded by more papers. These papers were strewn haphazardly as though Sora had gutted the area to preserve a place for his things. It looked a bit like desperation.

The silver-haired male couldn't think of anywhere better to put the toy sword, so he carefully placed it in the front of the pile on the floor. The pile looked cornered. Riku pushed some of the papers back with his feet to give the personal objects some breathing room.

Sora's mattress was decidedly far from the cluttered walls and piles. It vaguely reminded Riku of a small, unprotected island.

(XXX)

Sora took the glass measuring cup out of the microwave and poured the bubbling water into his orange mug. A plume of aromatic steam puffed into his face as he stirred the water with the powder. The tin of his beloved _'French Vanilla Café'_ winked at him from the edge of the counter. He lightly pressed his hands on the mug, careful not to press harder lest he burn himself, and enjoyed the warmth. His thoughts drifted to the previous night. Sora smiled a little and felt something inside do a little somersault.

_"MMBEEERGH!"_ he yowled and jerked his hands away from the mug. The sharp, hot pains in his palms brought his brain back to reality. Sora whined and licked the stinging areas on his hands. When the pain subsided, he filled an empty glass with water from the tap and took his medication.

The brunet felt soft, furry bodies rubbing against his legs. He looked down to see Mim and Mer, the two younger cats of the three, looking up at him with their large, pretty eyes. They were ponying up for breakfast, most likely, though unlike some cats, Mim and Mer weren't only affectionate when they wanted something.

Sora glanced around for the third cat—an older female of pristine white fur he called 'Madame de Beaumont'—but she was nowhere in sight. He shrugged and filled the cats' food dishes. There were only two food dishes for the three cats because Mim and Mer were completely content to do everything together at the same time, even in the same place. This tendency of theirs even extended to one of their most loathed activities—baths—but it was a true display of rare, feline loyalty. Sora thought it wasn't so much goodness of character, but that there was something wrong with them.

Mim and Mer were brothers from the same litter, which might have given some small, far-fetched explanation for their dynamic-duo behavior.

Sora turned around when he heard footsteps on the stairs. Even five minutes out of bed, Riku looked good. His face was freshly washed and his silver hair was newly brushed. His biceps were peaking out of the sleeves of his t-shirt. It was a good distraction.

In fact, _all _of Riku was a good distraction from his life. For the past several months, Sora felt like a capital city, slowly being encroached upon by a vast, unconquerable army. Sometimes, Sora couldn't see past the SAT flyers and college fair notices. The sharp, thin edges were cutting up his eyes and he could smile like he wasn't bothered, but when he did that he often felt like he was hiding the demolition of a building. There were a lot of things Sora had to do, a lot of things he had to be, and all that pressure made his kneecaps buckle.

Sora was a happy, smiley, quirky goof, but inside him there were mines—deep mines, with only flimsy _DO NOT ENTER_ tape to deter visitors. Those mines were filled with precious things like rare stones and metals. They weren't precious because he liked jewelry, they were precious because they were things that were very tender; they could hurt him easily if slightly disturbed, so he had to defend them. Sora wasn't a brawny-bodied, emotionally complex, impenetrable dark tower of a sentient being, so a considerable part of protecting those paining things was to hide them. Sora kept quiet about these internal combustions and, by keeping them secret, he kept them safe. If someone close to him lit a match and saw the glinting gold, then Sora would show sharp things—fangs and claws—that he didn't really have. He wished he could hide himself along with the things in his chest. He was trying.

Sora was afraid of growing up; there was a sensitive, cowering part of him that sorely needed his childhood back from the hands of time that took it. If he could go back, he _swore_ he'd appreciate it this time.

The brunet was generally kind, and fully capable of sympathy and empathy for others, but he was also selfish. That was not surprising, considering his age, and this trait didn't make him a poor excuse for a person. But it explained why he sometimes failed to see Riku as a person rather than a ticket out of a psychologically uncomfortable place. When Sora saw Riku, he saw his best, closest friend, but he also saw an escape route, which made him sigh with relief and think _you-can-get-me-out-of-here._

Riku distracted him from the social pressure to become an adult. Riku's company could suspend him in a current time setting that was safe and separate from Sora's life, a little part of the world free from the echo of _you-have-a-time-limit_. Riku could also return the brunet to their childhood, with the summer sun, sand between their toes, and childish games. Then Sora would recall the fleeting, blissful days when he regularly hid behind Riku, who _always _protected him when he was afraid.

Like Roxas, Sora was not emo or bursting with angst and depressing poetry. However, unlike Roxas, Sora was in need of a few special things, like time to lick his internal paper cuts. Like the realization that the world was not going to end when he entered the adult world. Like the knowledge that no one was would point a proverbial gun at his head if he stumbled a little as he tried to walk forward. Like the understanding of progression, the old adage: one day at a time.

Sora, caught up in what felt like a web of steel threads, found it hard to remember these things. He kept thinking about how succeeding in college, keeping a job, and depending on himself was going to be so difficult because he was so god damn handicapped by his ADD.

But Sora kept forgetting that he had a mild case and that the A's on his report cards actually meant something, _especially_ since he had a learning disability.

Back to reality—Sora felt like he was on a speeding train to the front row in his head, right behind his eyes. The brunet mentally swept the cobwebs out of his hair and brushed the splinters of fool's gold off of his clothing.

"Morning," Riku said from the doorway to the kitchen. He stretched. The hem of his t-shirt rose a little, revealing a bit of his muscled abdomen. Sora internally crooned.

"I'm surprised you didn't wake me up," Riku said and leaned against the stone-topped kitchen island. He sniffed the air and recognized the scent of Sora's stupid drink. He snorted.

The brunet shrugged and turned back to his mug. Riku ogled him. The elder male steeled himself and approached Sora from behind. His fingers trembled a little as he gently touched a strand of the brunet's hair. Riku ran his index finger over its smooth softness. The silver-haired male looked down at Sora with a charged expression on his face when the brunet turned his head towards him.

It felt like pre-soccer tournament nerves, only worse, and _better. _

Riku hesitated. He was momentarily frazzled by the way that one direct touch made his heart nearly strangle itself in his chest. He felt slightly dizzy. Riku glanced at Sora's position: he was fenced by the kitchen counter and Riku's body. His heart was puffing up useless nothings, so Riku swatted his brain away and moved to close the distance between their faces.

He stopped when Sora suddenly turned and knelt to open a cupboard close to the floor. Sora's movement was swift, smooth, and executed with the practiced perfection of a machine.

Riku quickly backed off and tried to think about something other than that odd exchange. He leaned against the kitchen island again, running a nervous hand through his hair.

Sora hid his amused smile behind his lips. He pulled a large, red plastic bowl, a glass measuring cup, and measuring spoons out of one cupboard and a box of pancake mix from another. Sora stood and plucked a wooden spoon from the utensil box on the counter. Sora grinned childishly at Riku.

"Two eggs and vegetable oil," he directed brightly. Riku rolled his eyes, but he obeyed.

Sora was not in the mood for pancakes. Besides, by the time he was done making them, his ADD medication would have kicked in, which had a side-effect of suppressing his appetite. As a result, the smell of food, especially traditional breakfast food, would make him mildly nauseous. However, this was not his concern. He didn't need to finish making pancakes—he only wanted to make use of his tongue and the thick, white batter.

(XXX)

Roxas rolled out of bed. And it wasn't such a good idea because he rolled out of bed and onto the hard floor three feet below his mattress. The blond groaned. He was too tired and in too much pain to get off the floor for a few minutes. After he recovered, he trudged into the bathroom, did his thing, and then downstairs to the kitchen. His dad was there, reading some catalog of products for the funeral industry.

Needless to say, Roxas' hearse _did, _at some point, contain a corpse in a box, but it had been years and five cans of disinfectant spray since the last one. But by Roxas' seventeenth birthday, he no longer cared about the history of his present. He loved his Deathmobile.

Roxas settled heavily on a chair at the kitchen table. It was after eleven.

Roxas' dad, Alexander, was a blond-haired man of Dutch descent minus the accent and memorable wooden shoes, who was almost perpetually dressed in a crisp, professional business suit, and was the current head of the family business. Since Roxas hit puberty, he didn't bother talking very much with his father for, as he saw it, there was little about which they could talk.

"Morning, Rox," his dad said. "Sleep well?"

"Yeah," Roxas answered, scratching his head and trying to figure out if he ate the last of the cereal the other day.

"Are you going to do anything with Axel this weekend?"

"Umm, no," the younger blond said absently. He got up and poked around in the cabinet where they kept their cereal. "Where's mom and Bar Bar?"

Bar Bar was his nickname for his little sister. As Roxas glared into the cruelly empty space of the cereal cupboard, he realized it was an odd time to notice that he generally avoided his little sister. Or maybe not avoided, that sounded too deliberate. He just didn't talk or do much to her much because, again, he saw little about which they could talk or do together.

Bar Bar was eight years old, born after Roxas was old enough to play Legend of Zelda, so he suggested they name his new little sister Sariah. Somewhat surprisingly, his parents liked it.

"Adela took Sariah to the library pick up books for a school essay," his dad said, then one of his eyebrows rose speculatively. "What? No Axel again? This is the second weekend in a row that I don't have him mooning over the science-fictiony equipment in the basement. Is he ill?"

The corpses were prepared and cared for in two rooms in the basement. Axel thought the tools, wires, tables, cosmetics, cleaners, and miscellaneous other bottles were cool.

Roxas rolled his eyes. If anyone wound up giving Axel a job, it would probably be Roxas' father, because he had been acquainted with the nutty redhead for long enough to trust him, generally, and know that he wasn't actually a psycho. Axel had a general interested in the funeral industry, too, which didn't hurt.

"No, Axel's fine, it's just…" Roxas trailed off, not knowing what to say. He couldn't recall if his dad knew he was dating Hayner, or even if Roxas brought him home to meet the family.

He shuddered at the sound of that. "Meet the family"—like Hayner was going to be installed there. Roxas was unsure as to why the thought so repulsed him.

"What's up?" his dad asked helpfully. He folded the catalog and placed it on the table to give Roxas his full attention.

"Er, how much do you know about my social life right now?" the adolescent blond asked. He went to the fridge and opened some drawers. He wasn't trying to avoid the topic, he was just trying to find something other than—ew, moldy cheese.

Alexander thought for a moment, then said, "I know you're best friends with a good-hearted nut, close friends with a gaggle of teenagers of debatable sanity and questionable origin, and are dating a young man from school who possesses a remarkable handbag. I also know that your best friend loathes said boyfriend to such an extent that I wake up every day half expecting to find his corpse in the care facility downstairs. How was that?"

"That's about everything condensed," Roxas replied, mildly surprised. "Right, so, Axel saw Hayner and me making out at school a couple of weeks ago and, well, he already _knew _I was dating Hayner, but he's been acting really strangely since."

His dad raised his eyes at Roxas' use of the word 'strange' to describe Axel. Roxas clarified:

_"Stranger than usual._ Then I learned from Riku that Axel is attracted to me and he probably has more feelings about me than just that."

They paused as they heard front door open and close, followed by footsteps and the little voice of Bar Bar. Roxas' little sister ran through the kitchen, latched onto their dad's leg for a quick hug, and went to her toys. Adela strolled into the kitchen shortly after.

"Hi, mom," Roxas said, then returned to his conversation with his dad. Alexander tried to give him some words of comfort and insight which only succeeded in making Roxas sigh in exasperation.

"Look, thanks for listening, but I have a date with Hayner tonight and I don't need to be thinking about Axel's _'feelings'_ all day and night."

Both Adela's and Alexander's eyebrows rose.

"Feelings? I didn't know Axel had those," Adela said with an amused smile.

_"Mom," _the young blond whined. His mother came over and kissed him on the cheek.

"Come on, Rox Pox, let me have a sense of humor."

"Don't call me that, please. At least not in front of people or Bar Bar. It'll follow me forever."

Adela smiled and ran her hands through Roxas' hair. "But you're still an angsting teenager. I _have_ to remind you that you're my favorite plague. Back to your love life: you make dates with Hayner sound like a job."

Roxas nearly agreed, then mentally smacked himself.

He stalked—angstily—out of the kitchen. He missed the mischievous look that passed between his parents.

(XXX)

The memory of Sora and that pancake batter was haunting Riku hours after he stopped licking that stupid spoon. Riku kept imagining his best friend lapping up all that white substance with his tongue, and his body was responding enthusiastically. It was distracting him from beating Sora at Mario Party. Not that Riku was really liked Mario Party—the overall type and style of the game was not his favorite; he preferred games such as the Legend of Zelda series for the violence, puzzles, and the overall epic feeling of being the only one who could save the world.

Riku glanced at Sora, who sat beside him in front of the small television in his bedroom. He seemed relatively content with their current activity.

One at a time, the silver-haired male wiped his sweaty palms on his pants. Neither of them mentioned the previous night. What if Sora didn't remember it?

Still, the pancake batter thing seemed like an obvious tease. And Sora could tease, he knew that. Maybe the brunet just wanted to bother him.

Sora's cell phone rang.

_'Just for now, just for now…  
I know we've all had a bumpy ride.  
I'm secretly on your side,  
Just fo—"_

Sora paused the game and fished his phone out of his pocket.

"Ye—us? …Um, I dunno when," the brunet said, then turned to Riku. "My mom wants to know how and when your parents want you back?"

"They said I could stay through Sunday night."

Sora turned back to the phone. "He says his parents are fine with him spending Sunday night, if that's fine with you. He'll take his stuff with him in the morning. …Jah, 'kay, love you."

They returned to the game. Riku's stomach arched as though it had a sinuous spine at the memory of the word 'love' coming from Sora's mouth. Riku glanced from the television screen to Sora's face a few times, then paused the game. They were both quiet.

Riku set his controller down and turned to his best friend, supporting his weight on his left hand. Sora looked at him curiously with his large, blue eyes. __

It seemed like such a silly thing to catch Riku up in the snares of _what-if-I-don't? _

_'How did you know?  
It's what I always wanted.'_

He leaned closer to Sora and daringly cupped the brunet's cheek in his hand. Riku tilted Sora's face towards him and kissed him.

_'You can never have too many of these…'_

There was a live-long moment in limbo during which Riku felt like everything in his life was only a sideshow leading up to this moment, but it ended when his lips made contact with Sora's cheek. The rushing feeling in his head stopped and he opened his eyes.

Sora rolled to his feet and stood. He grabbed his jacket from the hanger over the door and walked out of the room.

"It's boring inside. Let's go for a walk or something," he called back at the silver-haired male. "Turn off the PS2 for me, okay?"

Riku remained on the floor for a long moment, bemused, before some misplaced parts of his brain returned to headquarters. He turned off the television and the game console, and snatched his jacket from his bag in a motion that seemed impatient, nervous, and frustrated.

_'Will you quit kicking me under the table?  
I'm trying! Will someone make her shut up about it?  
Can we settle down, please?'_

Riku followed Sora to the door and they walked outside together. Riku kept shooting pointed, curious looks at the brunet, who seemed to be unaffected. The silver-haired male sighed quietly, disappointed.

_At least I don't have to look at Bowser's spiky ass anymore._

They walked down Sora's driveway and turned down the street. The two males were quiet on the outside—inside, Sora was carefully washing his smugness in a bath of ice water. Meanwhile, Riku wanted to bash his handsome, silver-haired head into a tree in exasperation.

Riku congealed a little inside. He wanted Sora's attention. He got ahead of Sora, turned, and walked backwards so he could smirk at him.

"Let's race. See how out of shape you've gotten," Riku challenged. His aquamarine eyes brightened a little at the rise he got out of Sora.

"I can still beat you, you smug soccer-jock! Remember the tortoise and the hair?!" Sora shot back and quickened pace, antsy to begin. The old competitive spirit was rising between them again. "Where to?"

"That trail entrance nearby," Riku answered. No sooner had he said that than Sora shot off; Riku laughed and ran after him. He overtook Sora in a very short time and beat him to the entrance of the trail by a long shot. Riku leaned against the wooden posts marking the trail for a while before he caught sight of the brunet. Sora trudged up to him, sulking, with his arms crossed over his chest and a dejected pout on his face. Riku shook with laughter—it was a long time since he last saw that expression on his face.

"Need to brush up on being a better loser?" Riku teased, grinning, when Sora reached him. The brunet ignored him and went into the trail. Riku followed him, allowing the younger male to keep some distance between them, though not because Riku cared about Sora's injured pride which, if he knew Sora, wasn't really injured. He allowed the younger male to walk ahead of him because it allowed Riku to have a nice, long, uninterrupted gander at his ass. Riku shifted uncomfortably; his pants were getting tight. Sora's bum was infinitely better than Bowser's, although such a comparison didn't give an accurate picture.

Sora huffed his way along and turned off the main path. Riku followed him to a river with a series of wet rocks for a bridge. When the silver-haired male saw what Sora had his eyes on, he sped up and grasped the brunet's elbow to help steady him. Sora glared at Riku and jerked his arm out of his hold. Riku made a grab for his arm again, but the brunet leaped forward to evade him. Sora's shoe stuck a little on one of the rocks and he weaved precariously over the river. He tried to regain balance by stepping onto the next rock, but he slipped, lost his balance, and fell onto his bum on the riverbed. The brunet let out a loud yowl as pain rocketed up his spine and the cold water ran over his skin.

"I think I broke my coccyx!" Sora wailed. Big, fat tears began rolling down his cheeks. He cried easily, but only at physical pain as far as Riku knew. He never saw him crying for any other reason.

"Oh, baby, I love it when you talk dirty," Riku said, snickering at Sora's pathetic grimace. He leaned over and hefted the brunet up and onto the riverbank. Once Sora was in front of him, Riku's expression changed.

"That's what you get," Riku said, abruptly gruff, repeating something he remembered telling someone else. When he thought about it, he didn't know about whom he meant when he said that—'_that's what you get.'_ Did he mean himself for loving a goofy, loony, almost lifelong best friend? Or did he mean Sora for being himself? For being the person that Riku loved?

Riku stood the brunet before him and unzipped their jackets. He pulled off Sora's cold, drenched jacket and shirt off of him and zipped him into his jacket for warmth. Sora stared up at him, wide-eyed, with his wet, bare chest pressed against his best friend's warm t-shirt.

"This is what you get," Riku repeated softly, running his thumb over Sora's cheekbone. He wrapped his hand gently around the back of the brunet's neck and pressed his lips to Sora's.

_'Lie down,  
Deep breaths:  
Count to ten,  
Nod your head.'_

Riku shivered internally and smiled against Sora's lips—it was warm bliss.

His smile grew wider when he felt Sora's lips move against his. Sora ran his fingers through Riku's hair and it nearly made him purr.

_'I'm secretly on your side…  
Just for now, just for now.'_

That first kiss turned into much-needed making out, and it was well deserved on Riku's part for putting up with Sora's shenanigans and not backing down at his teasing. The two males pressed close, happily consumed in one open-mouthed kiss after another. This was going very well—Riku hadn't imagined a result like this, but then he was male so it was a bit much to expect him to think through anything. Riku and Sora spent the next twenty minutes lip-locking, standing inside Riku's jacket, beside a river, with the brunet's soaked shirt and jacket lying on the earth at a small distance. It was an odd picture, but then so were the two people orally swapping bodily fluids.

Eventually, Riku released the brunet—well, as much as he could, since Sora was still within the confines of his outer clothing. He pulled away for two reasons: because Sora was shivering and needed dry clothing of his own, and because Sora was doing something really, _really_ awesome with his hips that Riku wasn't complaining about but, well, he'd have to _kill _Sora if he didn't stop.

"Let's get you home and into some warm clothes," Riku said, smiling. His gruffness from moments ago dissipated without a trace—Sora was making him weak in the knees.

It took awhile to shuffle home. Neither of them could move very quickly, connected as they were.

(XXX)

Roxas showered, brushed his teeth, and spent a wee bit longer than his usual five seconds quaffing in front of the mirror. When satisfied, he leaned on his hands, grasping the white rim of the sink.

_'I pack my case, I check my face.  
I look a little bit older,  
I look a little bit colder.'_

He sighed. For some reason, Roxas felt weary at the prospect of company tonight—Hayner's or otherwise. But really Hayner's, especially Hayner's, because _he was going_ to have his company tonight. Roxas would rather stay home and hang out in his bedroom, listen to some good music, maybe take a walk later. He would much rather do nothing, _be_ nothing for a night, together, with someone.

The blond glanced at the digital clock on the bathroom counter. He had a few minutes before he had to leave. Roxas reluctantly stood, walked into his bedroom, and got dressed. When everything was on and he had no chance of being arrested for public indecency, he sank onto the edge of his bed and fiddled with his cell phone. He was waiting for an excuse. For a second, Roxas wished that Axel had ESP so he would know to call and save him from the hours ahead. Axel was loyal; he'd do that. Then, Roxas and Axel could go somewhere and just hang out—they didn't need to _do _anything. Plans were nice, but sometimes he just wanted to lie in the back of his hearse with the trunk door open so he could enjoy the fresh breeze on his face with Axel beside him. Looking up at the stars was too cliché—starry skies were more Axel's thing. Roxas snorted at the thought.

_And he called __**me**__ a cream puff._

They could enjoy silence; Roxas and Axel could enjoy being still together, just thinking the same thought on pleasant replay: _you-are-my-friend-and-this-is-it._

"It" was unclear to them as of yet—what was "it"? But they both supposed, quietly, that "it" meant this friendship was too good to end. They hoped. They really hoped. No bleeding hearts, just that it was too good to give.

_Good god, don't even. Pull it together before it even starts coming apart._

He let out a low whistle for nothing in particular. He wished he didn't have to pick Hayner up in a few minutes—his My Chemical Romance album was calling to him. Roxas didn't listen to them very often. He didn't want to start a riot for anyone privy to his thoughts and he meant nothing bad about the rest of MCR's music, but sometimes one of their more retardedly emo songs _really_ hit the spot. Statement of _fact,_ and it was a good thing. Roxas was not about to get into the rest of it. He only had one album of theirs, anyway.

Roxas closed his eyes. He imagined that fresh breeze on his face. Clean, cool, fresh air—quiet, peace, pretty colors if he chose to look, and his best friend by his side. Awesome. That was all he needed. Cool, _deffo._

Just as he was sinking into this daydream, also similar to a few good memories, his cell phone let off its alarm—time to go pick up Hayner.__

'With one deep breath and one big step,  
I move a little bit closer  
For reasons unknown.'

(XXX)

The pick up and the ride to the restaurant was uneventful and quiet. The people in the parking lot of the diner gawked at Roxas' hearse. In the corner of his vision, he saw Hayner bristle. He crossed his arms defensively over his chest and scowled, his handbag glinting in the light. Roxas suddenly needed a minute to pinch his eyes shut and imagine ramming his head into a brick wall with the force of a barreling train. Too bad he had to keep his eyes open and avert manslaughter.

Part of his brain did not agree.

_Dude, dying to destroy the handbag would earn you, like, martyr status. Newest Saint and National Hero coming to your mangled corpse at the speed of light._

Not that Roxas was Catholic. He was kind of grateful, if firstly because it meant that Axel wouldn't avoid him like the plague.

Not that Roxas was doing the same thing to him. Anyway, Hayner was moaning on about something.

"Do you _like_ people staring at us?" Hayner asked, glaring at him. "Why can't you take this thing to the dealer and exchange it for something normal?"

_The speed of light, man—__**the speed of light! **__You following me?_**  
**  
Roxas sighed and kept his mouth shut. He had an answer for that sort of question, asked not for the first time by Hayner, but usually Roxas usually wasn't bothered enough to silently reply.

_Because __**I'm**__ not normal. I guess you haven't noticed, even though you stare at me like I'm severed in half sometimes._

He parked, pulled his key, pulled his seatbelt, pulled the door, and slammed it shut behind him. Once Hayner was out, he locked the hearse. Not that he expected anyone to steal that thing. They entered the restaurant and were soon seated at a booth. Roxas' mind was drifting elsewhere, so his choice in drink and entrée were made while in autopilot.

Hayner began talking about work. Fashions for the new season were coming into the store, and Hayner was not looking forward to dealing with more obnoxious customers in the coming week. Roxas tried to pay attention like a good boyfriend. Unfortunately, he slipped too quickly into other, milder, more amusing thoughts before he could catch himself. His mind drifted to Axel from a time before all this trouble about his _"feelings."_

(XXX)

Roxas first met Axel in the summer that he turned ten. He was with his family on the annual vacation in Twilight Town. Roxas still remembered his first sight of Axel: a twiggy boy with wide, wondering, glassy eyes, sitting on a tree branch, and all of this under a mass of fiery red hair. His hair was _so _vividly red that, initially, Roxas thought the other boy was on fire. Roxas on the ground below, decked only in a pair of dark swim trunks and dripping wet from a water balloon fight with the local kids, took one look at the other boy's head and one look at the last water balloon in his hand and did the logical thing. He lobbed the thing at his face, _hard. _

Roxas was a good shot; he played pitcher for the little league back home. He knocked the redhead off the branch. The boy fell into the bushes below in a tumble of flailing limbs and, surprisingly, not a single sound of surprise or fear.

It was blisteringly hot. Roxas probably thought the other boy had combusted from the heat.

But when the green-eyed boy scrambled up from the bushes, his hair was still red, though darker from the water.

"Oh" was the best thing Roxas could say. Silently, he broadcasted a question that would have explained his previous action: _you-weren't-on-fire-were-you?_

They stood on equal footing. And on equal footing, the young blond saw that the redhead was much taller than him. He was twelve, _at least. _Roxas swallowed nervously. This kid was going to hit him, he knew it. But the redhead was still; he just stared. After a minute, he echoed Roxas' lame, bewildered greeting: _"oh."_

Roxas saw something of interest on the older boy's arm: a temporary tattoo. It was a glossy image of Spiderman, frozen in mid-swing from one building to another.

"You like Spiderman, too?" Roxas asked. The redhead stared at him, wide-eyed, as though confused, then nodded.

"I feel as weird as him, sometimes," the taller boy said. Roxas beamed.

"Me, _too."  
_  
"I'm Axel," he said, as though Roxas' response confirmed something vitally important.

"Cool, I'm Roxas!" the blond said and grabbed the older boy's hand in a vigorous, enthusiastic shake.

They smiled at each other. Roxas grinned widely, emanating the ecstatic nature of his thought: _I-bet-you're-just-as-weird-as-me. _Axel returned the look with a small, timid smile. Roxas later learned that this was probably the first time that Axel ever had the chance to give another kid such a smile—first time getting to smile at someone willing to be his friend.

Olette, a brunette with a plain face, padded up to Roxas.

"Hey," she chirped to him—not to Axel—"Wanna go play tag?" She glanced nervously at the redhead and tugged Roxas' wrist meaningfully. "Somewhere _else?"_

Roxas glanced from Olette to Axel and saw the other boy's fading smile. And Roxas would have done it anyway, but the redhead's saddening expression only bolstered his conviction: he shook his head at Olette and hopped over to Axel's side.

"I'm gonna play with Axel now. I'll see you later," Roxas said. He vaguely noticed the water droplets rolling down the redhead's fair skin.

Olette hesitated, glancing from one boy to the other and then the narrow space between them, then walked back to where the other kids were playing.

Alone again, the two boys got acquainted. Their mouths exhausted their shared love of Spiderman, their limbs endured and grappled with the rough bark of the trees they climbed, and their feet were scorched by the sun-heated roads as they explored Twilight Town. They were mirror images, standing side by side behind the locked gates of the old mansion, and their thoughts were similar, half-formed fantasies of breaking in and finding ghosts. They talked about their similarly somewhat odd families.

Axel made Roxas feel at home with himself. The blond's fears and anxieties were not yet fully unearthed from his subconscious, nor was he articulate enough to express them perfectly, but he was able communicate himself well enough to be understood. Axel never batted an eyelash at Roxas' childhood secrets, so the blond felt relieved. Roxas soon learned that the redhead had no friends because he was, as the kids put it, _crazy._ Roxas learned that he was crazy—he learned _just_ how crazy his new friend was. And in response to this knowledge, the blond only thought he was so lucky to have found his possibly, maybe, soon enough, sure enough, _definitely_ best friend early in life—in the summer when he turned ten.

(XXX)

Roxas smiled absently into the air to the side of Hayner's head.

"Um, are you listening to me?" said blond asked, his eyes narrow.

Roxas blinked and bowed his head over his plate. He stabbed the chicken with his fork, but ate little of it. The sauce had mushrooms in it—Roxas wrinkled his nose; he disliked mushrooms. He also disliked this restaurant. And for the moment, he disliked Hayner. This change of heart could have been a sign, could have meant something, could have heralded he arrival of an emotion more concrete, and Roxas could have dumped Hayner right there, but he didn't. Wisely, Roxas acknowledged that this feeling stomping around obstinately in his gut would probably be gone tomorrow, or at least have weakened by then to something less obviously grouchy.

He paid attention to Hayner, though he was finding little pleasure in company tonight.

Hayner touched his hand. Roxas jerked his head up, wondering if he was zoning out again, but the contact was only affectionate. The check soon arrived. Hayner smiled at him, and Roxas, relieved, smiled back at him. They returned to Roxas' hearse. No one was in the parking lot to gape at them, so Hayner relaxed.

Then Hayner wanted to do things, but not in the back of Roxas' hearse, because, _"Hello!_ It's a _hearse_—dead people have been in here!" In response to this, Roxas sighed and flopped back against his seat. He felt tired, and told his boyfriend as much. He talked Hayner down to decrease the chance of receiving bothered, anxious calls from him later. In minutes, Roxas was pleased to be driving Hayner home. After they parted, Roxas felt relieved; now he could retreat to the comfort of his room. He drove home, whistling badly, but not bothered by the unattractive sounds coming from his lips.

Roxas thought about Axel and, for the first time in a couple of weeks, his mood did not darken. He decided something then: he was going to call Axel tomorrow, apologize, and ask to hang out somewhere. It didn't matter where. Roxas' lips curved in a sleepy smile; he felt free and mellow. He had no clue where his fear was hiding, or even if it was still alive. He felt as though he and Axel could survive this emergence of a heart with their friendship intact. Roxas was not yet sure how, but he could take the first step: he could reach out again and apologize. He could put an end to this, and he would.

Things were going to be all right. He felt free and easy—he'd finally gotten away from the pressure of Axel lurking with his insistent heart in hand around every corner, demanding that Roxas deal with something he only wanted to avoid. But now that Roxas had his space, he felt a bit better and the world was looking clearer, and all the sharp edges were disappearing. Roxas was going to patch this up on his own terms, now that he felt like he had a handle on the situation. No more irrational, emotional responses to Axel's _"feelings."_

The blond arrived home and parked in the driveway. He didn't go inside just yet; his mind drifted to the first time Axel saw _his _hearse. Pretty cool. Pretty damn awesome. Roxas was so proud of his birthday present, even if Axel was the only one impressed the way Roxas was. Axel had been out of town the day of Roxas' birthday, so the two of them bunked off the day after, when Axel _was _in town, to have birthday cupcakes. Because apparently neither of them was gay enough already.

(XXX)

The day after Roxas' seventeenth birthday, the blond proudly showed off his new hearse to Axel. The car was shiny and newly cleaned by his father—the smell of prepared corpses was gone, too, which was a plus. The redhead looked about the interior with wonder in his eyes. His knees were bent up under his chin because they were so long. He looked like a kid again, which made Roxas snicker.

"Damn, how did you manage to get this car?" Axel asked, amazed.

"I dunno, father's a funeral director? I'm thinking of getting it painted. Maybe electric blue," the blond answered. He patted the steering wheel, dashboard, and gear shift lovingly. And then the glove compartments, turn signal switch, and seats for good measure—as if the car wasn't _already_ uncomfortably aware of his love for it.

Roxas paused from his reverent petting when he noticed his best friend's silence. The blond froze, then slowly let his eyes roll up. There, on Axel's face, was a look of the most profound revelation. Like he'd just seen _god._

"If this is a deathmobile, then you're, like, a _superhero!"_

Roxas stared, wide-eyed.

"I mean, you got the car and everything!"

The blond wasn't sure what the "everything" was, but probably neither did Axel. Nevertheless, Roxas gripped the steering wheel tightly, bracing for something he knew was coming. He could just hear the first, newly-conceived bits of it screeching out from the crack underneath the heavy, metal door to Axel's inner brain.

The flaming tree rolled down the window and stuck his head out the window. He began hollering the tune to Batman at the top of his lungs, projecting directly at the young, easily frightened preppy girls crossing the street.

_**"DANANANANANA DEATHMAN!"**__  
_  
Roxas snickered, but when he saw one of the girls jump, terrified, and nearly slip into an open manhole, he nearly died. He guffawed in the driver's seat and, for lack of anything better to express himself, slammed himself backwards into his seat and stomped his feet on the car floor. Axel beamed proudly in the passenger's seat. But when the redhead reached over to fiddle with the gear shift, Roxas was suddenly dead serious and nearly gnawed off his hand.

Forever after, Deathman was the only superhero in Roxas' destiny. But Deathman was then and would always be the very best and "most awesomest" one in Axel's poorly written book.

(XXX)

strolled into the house feeling much lighter than when he left earlier that evening. He put his coat on the coat rack by the kitchen doorway. He heard his mother calling him from the family room, and he followed her voice. His parents were sitting on the couch, apparently waiting for him. As it turned out, they wanted to talk about Axel. Things quickly took a turn for the worse; Roxas' willingness to close the gap he'd placed between himself and his best friend was crumbling under perceived accusations and pressure. He tried to deflect their questions and statements, but Adela and Alexander were insistent. Roxas' _Look-I-don't-want-to-talk-about-him-right-now! _didn't stand a chance in Hell.

"We know you don't want to talk to or see him," Adela said, "but as you haven't given us any reason as to _why _you're resistant to seeing your best friend, we can only assume that your reason is too stupid or embarrassing to tell us."

Roxas' anger was sparked. Less than an hour ago, he was ready to contact Axel with the intent of fixing things, but now that he felt as though he was on trial, his plans were overshadowed.

_"Fear_ is not a stupid reason!" he snapped back at his mother. "And that's great parenting: calling your child stupid!"

"Fear of something can be valid, but this is your best friend. It seems to me that you're afraid of fear. And no, I did not just call you stupid; I implied that you are _intelligent_ because you understood that your reason wasstupid, which is why you haven't told us."

The adolescent blond growled and buried his face in his hand.

"Whatever," Roxas mumbled sourly. Between memories of Axel pressuring him, Hayner bitching at him, and his parents cornering him, Roxas was more than ready to retreat.

"Done? Good, then. Because Axel's coming over for dinner tomorrow night."

No more irrational responses be damned: Roxas let out a hoarse holler and ran into a wall. While the young blond was down for the count, his mother strolled over and took his car keys.

(XXX)

The end of chapter six.

To all my readers: I would appreciate receiving _more_ than three reviews for this new chapter. :3

Do _**not **_give me shit about the MCR comment. I was watching the Sora Show on youtube and it clicked. God, I love the Sora Show. XD

Rox Pox. XD I wrote a term paper on smallpox. Really cheery virus. And America doesn't have enough vaccines to deal with an outbreak, should _variola major_ or _minor_ sweep through the country. Bloody brilliant.

**Question that doesn't relate to this fic:  
Clarification:** I am _**not **_asking if you _prefer_ Axel/Roxas (or vice-versa) or Riku/Sora (ditto).  
**The actual question:** which is hotter, _questionable sanity/obsession with love-interest _(as seen in some presentations of Riku/Sora) or _considerable age difference_ (as seen in Axel/Roxas)?

I like the substantial age differenc, but I'm also intrigued by the whole "object of a mental asylum escapee's love." XD XD XD Because I tend to think that, in real life, Riku would stand a good chance of being a mental asylum escapee. Come on, you remember KH I. That boy could have _used _some medication…and a friend other than a lifeless shell of Kairi and a Heartless that looked so temptingly like Sora.

Not that everyone characterizes Riku as a person in need of some psychotherapy, but psychological issues/insanity is something I can't disassociate from my idea of Riku from the game series. (Questionable sanity does not apply to Riku in _this_ fic.)

Titles and bands:

The chapter title is an altered line from **"Andy, You're a Star"** by _The Killers._  
The header, as noted, is from the song **"My List"** by _The Killers _from the **Sam's Town** album.

Lyrics from **"Just for Now"** by _Imogen Heap,_ from the **Speak for Yourself** album.  
Lyrics from **"For Reasons Unknown"** by _The Killers,_ from the **Sam's Town** album.


	7. Author's note: hiatus

Dear readers of Son of the Moon,

No, I'm not abandoning this fic. However, after several months of delay in writing the next chapter, I think it's necessary to officially state the situation of this fic. I intend to continue it, but I currently haven't the time nor the inspiration. My inspiration to write has been nearly dead since I came to college in September.

I am posting this to let all who are interested know that I still intend to finish this fic. I apologize for the delay. I do not foresee me having time to update until perhaps Christmas, spring, or summer break. Do not raise your hopes for Christmas or spring break, though.

This fic is on hiatus until I have time to continue writing.

Thank you for your patience.

-Misadventures


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